Writer's Excerpts

For Jackson and the Chase

by Faye Guenther

published in TOK: Writing the New Toronto - Book 6

“The trick,” she told me, “is to always keep moving. And if you do look back, for whatever reason, be ready for the commotion.” When no one else was watching we covered our ears with our hands, elbows angled outward as if to ward off double-fisted blows, keeping our eyes wide open. This is how Jackson taught me the necessary escape from the past by facing it down.

In the kitchen steaming with heat, working as dishwashers and short-order cooks, we leaned into memories. Both of us another Angelus Novus, in obligatory hairnets and knee-length aprons stained to a fade, tucked over tank tops and old jeans, bare feet in our fluorescent sneakers from BiWay or Thrifty’s, squealing across the linoleum floor, then a year later, tougher, lace-up combat boots, worn even in summertime.

“Like a fucking sauna.” The first thing Jackson ever said to me, as she wiped the wet edge of her face and jerked a thumb toward the end of the kitchen facing out on a crumbling parking lot behind Yonge Street. “Even with that back door propped open.”

I watched the manager look me up and down as he hired me.

To read the full piece, purchase TOK: Writing the New Toronto - Book 6