Once, when I was fifteen, I wandered back there. I saw some comic books, and a few ancient issues of Chatelaine, and rows and rows of skin mags. I took a little look; I just sort of glanced around, and then I bought some firecrackers for my former boyfriend Dean Black. Now I just turned my head and glanced back there. I could see three men, trying not to touch each other, as they leaned forward, reaching and opening and gazing.

I wondered what they thought of me, a tall girl with messy hair and a notebook blank of goals. You should have seen the way I dressed then. It was pretty unsexy. I was wearing long johns and my father’s flannel shirts, one wrapped around my waist to hide the baggy crotch on my white thermal underwear. I looked overbundled. Wearing my father’s shirts meant I didn’t get hassled by the hallway critics at school—those thicknecked football fucks who sat in the foyer rating girls as they went by. When I had some money and got out of Victoria, I thought I’d start dressing like the models in magazines. Magazines were always going on and on about Your True Style, and I thought I probably had some true style, but it would have to wait till I was There. You know what I was thinking when I caught sight of those men in the corner looking at skin mags? I had this sudden, horrifying idea that Everly, my mother, was in those magazines. It was a possibility, but not one I wanted to consider, so I turned back to my smirking notebook. The Pacific Ocean surrounds my island, and it’s something I’d never crossed, something cold and endless which kept me away from the rest of the world. It was like a chaperone; a constant presence reminding me that I couldn’t wander away. My blank pages gave me the same feeling as the ocean. Sara, you’re not going anywhere.

My presence at the corner counter didn’t stop the men from looking at skin mags; I don’t think they even knew I was there.

A skinny girl came in. She slammed open the door, and a cluster of silver bells smashed against glass. She was frail and looked a bit unhealthy, but she seemed unaware of this. She walked like she was a star in certain select circles, so it didn’t matter what anyone outside of those circles thought of her. She walked fast and straight.

The loggers sneered. What the hell’s that?

I guess it’s Halloween early, eh?

Ha, if I was her father, she’d be over my knee.