Watcher by Valerie Sherrard

definitely read it. Thanks.”
    â€œYeah, no problem.”
    We said “So, all right then” and “Take care,” and a couple of things like that — the words you say when you can’t say the real stuff.
    Then I left his office for the last time.
    All the way home I kept looking at the book, glancing down to where it was tucked between my arm and chest. It was — believe it or not — the first time anyone had ever given me a book.
    The front cover displayed a picture of one of those things for making women’s clothes. I read the back cover and wasn’t sure I’d much like the story. It didn’t sound very exciting.
    But I knew I’d read it right away.

chapter thirteen
    S trains of the latest Nickleback CD met us before we reached the door at Pockets. Tubby played mostly Canadian groups and tunes — a pretty decent mix of new stuff and the classics. Lately he’d been playing a lot of Nickleback, Roman Dane, and old Bryan Adams.
    We ambled over to where Tubby was sitting and said hello to him.
    â€œHey, how are you guys tonight?” He reached under the counter, pulled out a package of Nicorette gum and popped a piece into his mouth. Tubby quits smoking about once a month.
    â€œGood. You?”
    â€œCan’t complain.” He chewed vigorously, not like they show on TV — bite, bite, stop. “And no one would listen if I did.”
    That didn’t call for an answer, so we ordered a couple of Pepsis and then sauntered over to the tables.
    They were all occupied. We plunked down on a long bench along the right wall. I tried to see if Lavender was around, without making it obvious that I was looking.
    â€œThink we should put up for a game?” Tack asked.
    I’d made a point of looking over the players at each table, which was also a good way to see who was around without seeming to. The place was busier than usual but I didn’t see Lavender anywhere.
    â€œI dunno. They’ve all got two or three holds now,” I said.
    What you did was put a toonie down behind the last one in line to reserve whichever table you wanted. When your turn came up, you put your toonie into the side slot to release the balls, then racked ’em up.
    Without knowing who had reserved the tables or in what order, it was hard to know which table to hold.
    We always dropped two toonies on one table and then Tack would take the first game because he was a better player than I was. We’d pick a table that didn’t have strong players lined up, to more or less guarantee that he’d win his game. Then I’d be up next to play him.
    Of course, it didn’t always work out. Sometimes he would lose and I’d end up playing someone else. No big deal; that was just the way it went. All you could do was try to arrange things the way you wanted them and then live with whatever happened.
    â€œI dunno,” I said. “It’ll be a while before there’s a table free. What do you think?”
    We talked it over and decided to hang around for a bit, anyway. Since we could always pick up our money and leave if we wanted to, we dropped our coins on the back table and then wandered around to check things out.
    Loren Vasey was shooting at the centre table and we stopped to watch her for a few minutes, admiring the smooth movements that sent the balls into one pocket after another. She had a good eye and steady hand and could beat almost anyone. We hadn’t even hesitated before passing up that table when we were deciding where to place our money. She’d most likely be around until closing and, unless she decided to take a break, anyone lined up for that table was pretty well guaranteed to play her. And lose.
    Loren and I had never been friends, really, so I was surprised when she spoke to me. If you’d asked me if she even knew I was there, I’d have said no way.
    â€œHey, Porter.”
    â€œHey.”
    â€œI’ve never