Her Thirties part 39


The morning went better than I thought it would. I was supposed to help a graduate student draft a thesis proposal, but she begged off claiming illness, leaving me with the entire morning free. I spent it in the library.

I was researching material on the unequal distribution of wealth in the Thirties and got sidetracked while working on the section entitled, “Making Do in Hard times.”

I began digressing and reading accounts of everyday life in Toronto during the Depression. I saw a photo of huge lineups outside the Yonge Street Mission—hundreds of men in long overcoats waiting for a free breakfast—at least, that’s what the banner over the door advertised.


I read the mind-numbing statistics—25% of Torontonians were on relief and no commercial buildings were being erected. Women were paid $12.50 per week in garment-making factories.

There was a picture of women working at the Eaton’s factory being monitored by supervisors using stopwatches. I was about to turn the page when my eye was drawn to the background of the picture. There was a young blonde woman sitting at a sewing machine and she was a dead-ringer for Marilyn.

That’s impossible, I told myself. I looked closer. The girl could have been her identical twin.


I recalled Marilyn’s story about the chestnut seller in the rain—it happened outside Eaton’s. A coincidence? My scalp began to creep.

Nothing about my relationship with Marilyn made sense. The more I got to know her, the more improbable everything became.

The atmosphere in the library began to feel stuffy and oppressive. I needed to leave. I grabbed my papers and stuffed them into a briefcase, and before returning the book, made a photocopy of the picture of the girl.


I emerged into a cool breeze—the sky was overcast and threatened rain. I started to walk out onto St. George Street and happened to glance south—it was then I noticed a Metro Police cruiser stopped at the curb at the head of a line of parked cars.

Abe? The thought crossed my mind, but I dismissed it and made my way back towards campus. I decided to stop by hart House for a sandwich and coffee. As I approached Hart house Circle, I spotted another Metro Police cruiser parked near the main doors.

I began to feel apprehensive and immediately thought of Marilyn. I ordered a coffee and sandwich and when I got to ‘our’ table, I phoned the bookshop.


“Are you missing me?” she teased.

“I am. Is everything all right?”

“It’s good. Why do you ask?”

“Just indulge me for a moment. Take a look outside and tell me what you see.”

“That’s easy. I was just out. I saw sooty clouds and it was quite breezy.”

“Did you notice anything unusual?”

“Not really—just a Direct Energy van and a bunch of parked cars—Oh, and a police cruiser.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.


“I figured that. Abe’s watching both of us now—I wonder if he thinks something’s going down?”

“I hope not—but I doubt anyone would try anything—the cruiser’s been parked at my front door all morning.”

“Good. Then, I won’t worry so much about you.”

“That’s sweet, Scott, but I’ll be fine. When I finish here, I’ll go straight upstairs, eat supper, have a nice hot bath and go directly to bed—so, don’t worry, okay?”

“If you say so, I won’t. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at eight.”



“Thanks for caring.”

I held the phone to my ear a few moments longer, before flipping the cell shut. I simply luxuriated in her aura.


© 2017 – 2018, John J Geddes. All rights reserved.

Be Sociable, Share!
This entry was posted in Private Lies. Bookmark the permalink.

Comments are closed.