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pleaded. “Walter can get along without you.”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Well” — Elias gave Ellen a broad stage wink — “me and you can go without him.”
    “I’ll be there,” Bryan said.
    At eight sharp the next morning, Bryan heard the rumble of the Wilsons’ van in the driveway. Outside, the sky was sullen but at least the rain had stopped. He pulled on his hightops, slipped into his imitation suede bomber jacket and sang out a goodbye to his mother and uncle. Bryan climbed into the back seat of the van, which smelled of new wood, paint and linseed oil. Elias’s father used it to transport supplies and finished canvases.
    It took only a few minutes to drive across town to Ellen’s. Mrs Wilson beeped the horn, which was, Bryan thought, totally unnecessary because anyone not deaf would know they had arrived.
    “What’s new, Bryan?” Mrs Wilson asked. “We haven’t see you around our place much lately.”
    “The reason why,” Elias cut in, “just came out her front door.”
    “Oh, not much, Mrs Wilson,” Bryan replied. “Mom’s joined that new park committee. Jimmy’s still looking for work.”
    “It’s pretty grim out there, all right,” she said as Ellen got into the van. She sat next to Bryan, who immediately lost interest in making small talk with Elias’s mother.
    Once past Talbot Inlet, Highway 93 twisted and turned through the mountainous terrain. Elias’s mother drove slowly and carefully, especially when caught behind one of the many logging trucks that carried timber in to the pulp mills and sawmills of Port Albert.
    “Hey, Ellen, got that new tape you told me about?” Elias asked.
    Ellen handed an Icicle Invasion tape to Elias, who jammed it into the deck and turned up the volume. Mrs Wilson immediately adjusted it to a reasonable level.
    “Good stuff, eh?” Ellen commented, swaying to the pulsing bass.
    Elias was turned around in his seat, facing Ellen and Bryan. Mostly Ellen, Bryan thought. When had they talked about the tape? he wondered.
    “Heard this one yet, Bry?” Elias asked.
    “He’s been too busy reading about whales,” Ellen answered for him, smiling. “He’s becoming an expert.”
    “He’d better move fast,” Mrs Wilson said as she floored the gas pedal and moved around a slow-moving lumber truck, “before they’re extinct.”
    “Has he tried to talk to them again?” Elias joked.
    “No, but I think he’s working up to it.”
    Bryan looked out the window at the mountains, with their clear-cut bald spots. He worried when Elias and Ellen were together, especially if he wasn’t with them. Not that Elias would try to steal Ellen away from him, Bryan reassured himself. But Elias didn’t have to try. Whenever he was around a girl, you might as well standback and shut up, because whoever the girl was, Elias was all she saw. There was no use trying to compete with him. There were times when he wished Ellen wasn’t so good-looking.
    At length they reached town, and Mrs Wilson deposited Elias, Ellen and Bryan on the main street.
    “Good luck in your reading, Mrs Wilson,” Ellen called out.
    “Luck, Mom. Bye!” Elias yelled as the van rumbled away from the curb. “Whew! Smells like the pulp mills are going full tilt,” he said, sniffing the damp air. The sulphurous odour hung in the air like invisible fog.
    Bryan and his friends spent the morning window-shopping and exploring the music stores. Bryan moped along while Elias entertained Ellen with jokes and silly antics and she, it seemed to Bryan, laughed hysterically at every word that came out of Elias’s mouth. They ate slabs of lukewarm pizza at a waterfront joint on Albert Sound. Bryan was relieved when Elias told them it was time to meet his mother.
    “Come on, Bry and I will walk you there,” Ellen offered.
    “No, I’m going the opposite way. You guys don’t want to miss your movie. See you later.”
    Bryan was silent as they made their way up the hill to the theatre. The pizza sat like a