Meanwhile, the black-clad gentlemen of Phalanx Security Inc. just stood there the whole time, sweating balls, hungry enough to chew the leg off the lamb of God, and not sure what to make of the whole spectacle as it unfolded on our side of the line. And after I tossed my bouquet of prickly rambling roses and onion stalks directly at Allie and Wendy, I walked up to the guy who looked like he was in charge. The one whose aura had started off the morning with faint flickers of baby blue and unfinished business but who is now engulfed in a sky-blue longing, even as his face stays locked, stony and stern.

“This here’s the best part of a Cape Breton wedding,” I say to him. “Called ‘the Time.’ Biggest party you ever did see. Times can rage on for days and days, especially when they’re outside and the weather co-operates, which it will. You’ll be here for the long haul, watching us celebrate love and life, buddy.”

I lean in as close as my belly and his barricade stance will allow, and speak with a hushed sweetness. “Look, I know you’re in this for the money. I also know that right now, you resent the fuck outta being here. You had something special planned for this weekend.”

I blurt out my best guess at what my vision, with its swirls of colourful love and longing and fear, seems to suggest.

“A big family gathering. You were gonna propose to your girlfriend, weren’t you? But you got called away to work and she’s so pissed. Maybe she’ll even break up with you over it. Imagine what kind of hero you’d be if you could get your ass back home and surprise her.”

I glance up and can see from the sway and shifts of the colours around him that he’s movable. They’re all movable in this moment. But before I can test the power of my own persuasion any further, Peggy’s hand drops down onto my shoulder. A thick envelope is thrust into my hand.

“Here,” she says. “Everybody chipped in for a wedding gift. Betcha there’s enough in here to make these fellas wanna head back to where they belong instead of standing around here.”

Once the gentlemen of Phalanx Security Inc. decided that what was in that envelope was a far better deal than what Sarah Spenser had nickeled and dimed them into taking, our little post-wedding party was free to spill across the property line and our little tent city bloomed in and around the very spot where Spenser Mining Inc. intended to drill in a few days. And when the other crooked bitch showed up just before the sun went down, to see a big old wedding Time in full swing, she looked like her head was set to explode.

“Welcome to our wedding.” I beam.

“You’re trespassing on Crown land. Once the Minister of Natural Resources signs exploration rights over, you’ll either get out of my way or be arrested.”