“Have a rough night?” Charlotte asked. She poured coffee into her mug and then filled his.
“That obvious, eh?” Edward stared at his Marvin the Martian mug
“You’re sure not pretty to look at if that’s what your asking,” she replied with a snicker. “By the way, I gave Jagdeep his medication. Pass the honey.”
Edward slid the jar across and cringed as he watched her put two heaping teaspoonfuls into her coffee. “I know. I heard you at midnight and four. You brushed against the shotgun on my lap when you passed.”
“I did? Where were you?” He pointed at the couch. “Why didn’t you say something?”
He glanced at the wall clock. “You looked like you were sleepwalking, didn’t want to wake you up. I’ll give Jagdeep his eight o’clock.”
“Why were you sleeping there? And with a shotgun?’
“And with a dog.” Edward sipped his coffee. “That’s it. I couldn’t. After Jagdeep gave me that note, every sound in the place kept me awake. Did you know the furnace comes on at five in the morning?”
“You set it.”
“Hmm.” He stood and went to the toaster and put in two slices. “Should I put in for you?” He waved a slice of bread in each hand.
“Please.” She picked up the spoon and stirred her coffee. “Where’s the dog?”
“With Jagdeep.”
“So, you and Ginger now get along?” she asked.
The toast popped. “Is that her name?” He put the toast on two plates and buttered them. “She and I had a temporary truce, until the damn furnace came on.” He held up a bandaged finger. “Your laughter’s not comforting.”
“I can’t help it. Poor boo-boo. I’ll get the jam,” she said, barely containing her laughter.
“No need. Honey will do. Honey.”
Charlotte pouted. “I’ve hurt your feelings.”
“Only an itsy-bitsy bit,” he replied with a wink. He put the plates on the table and sat. After a few sips from his mug, he asked, “Have you thought we might be way over our heads?”
Charlotte placed her mug on the table. “I think it may be too early to tell, but yes it has crossed my mind.” She picked up a slice of toast and began to eat. “Have you heard of strategic connectivity before?”
Edward sat back in his chair and thought for a moment. “No, I can’t say I have.”
“Neither had I until I worked with Beatrice. It’s how groups like TPR sustain themselves, through the ease of online networking. The internet facilitates their ideological affirmation and recruitment globally. What stands out in their communication is an allusion to a collective “we.” At first glance, I thought it seemed paradoxical. But the longer I followed their texts on Disharmony the more it began to make sense. Though they professed allegiance to Canada they also referred to an imagined state or nation as the great white homeland.”
“Sunnyvale?”
She spread a dollop of honey over the other slice of toast. “It reinforces what was discussed at Kenenstatsis.”
“My coffee’s cold and I bet yours is too. I’ll replenish them.” He took the mugs to the sink, dumped the contents and refilled them. “We were lucky last night that no one from TPR visited us.” He placed the mugs on the table and sat. “Five years ago, I could have lost you.” His mind stretched back in time. Spurts of memories flashed by. Boots thundered across the veranda. The doorframe shattered at the lock and the door exploded open. The gun pressed against Charlotte’s head. The struggle that ensued. Weapons fired. Charlotte! He applied pressure to her wound. “Because of me, I lost my first wife. I can’t confront the possibility of losing you, too.”
“Edward, you can’t keep blaming yourself for her death,” she said.
“Maybe not, but it keeps playing over in my head with what ifs.”
“Are you happy…we married?”
“Of course, I am. I love you.”
“Then that’s what matters, so focus on that.”
The approach of a vehicle along the drive garnered their attention.
“That must be Janet. I invited her for breakfast,” said Charlotte.
“When did that happen?” Edward asked.
“You weren’t the only one unable to sleep. We were texting each other at six this morning. I hope you don’t mine?”
“I really don’t have much choice.” He reached across and took her hand. “No, I really don’t mine.” Yapping up a storm, Ginger bounded out of Jagdeep’s bedroom, ears pressed closed backwards on the head and canine teeth uncovered. “Geez, don’t open that door until I get her back into the bedroom.”
“And how do you hope to do that?”
“I don’t know.” Where did I put that damn afghan?
In the background, Jagdeep called her name. Ginger wagged her tail, snorted happily and bounded back to the bedroom.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Edward said. “Wait a minute. That was Jagdeep I just heard?"
“Bring him his medication while I let Janet in.” She pointed to the shelf near the sink. “See if he’s up to having breakfast.”
“What’s on the menu?” he asked, heading across the living room to the bedroom.
“Pancakes, real maple syrup and sausage.”
Forty minutes later, Janet and Charlotte sat alone at the kitchen table.
“Any idea what happened to Jagdeep?” Janet asked.
“I guess some kind of anaphylactic reaction.”
Janet nursed her mug of coffee. “By now you must have come across the expression “Old stock” Canadians.”
“I have. Harper got into trouble using it during the 2015 federal elections. The expression is traceable to white Aryan cultures of Western Europe.”
“This past March, Kevin Goudreau, hosted a European Heritage Day Rally highlighting that common heritage. By the way, these pancakes are really good! Your recipe?”
“I wish. It’s Martha Stewart’s.”
“It was his way,” Janet continued with a mouthful of pancake, “of linking white nations under a single banner.”
“Interestingly enough, Beatrice and I talked about this same rally a few days back. And she and I came to the same conclusion.”
“The statement of principles of the Asatru Folk Assembly on their California based website captures their shared identity to a tee.” Janet washed down some sausage with her coffee.
“Wait a minute, I’ll be right back.” Charlotte scurried across the living room to the office. A couple of minutes later she reappeared with a folder. “I’ve got it right here.” She sat at the table and opened the folder. “If you don’t mine, I’ll read it to you.”
“Go right ahead.” Janet forked another pancake onto her plate. “Those two don’t know what they’re missing,” she said with a slight nod to the closed bedroom door.
“They’ll be here soon enough.” Charlotte drank some of her coffee and began to read. “We may refer to ourselves as Americans, Germans or Canadians, but behind these labels lurks an older, more essential identity. Our forefathers were Anglos and Saxons, Lombards and Heruli, Goths and Vikings—and, as sons and daughters of these peoples, we are united by ties and culture undimmed by centuries.” Charlotte sighed sadly. “They deftly manage that culture of exclusion within our cyberculture.”
“At the moment they do. But as you are aware things can change. Did I hear a dog bark? When did you and Edward get a dog?”
“We didn’t. It belongs to Jagdeep. Are you finished?” Charlotte pointed at the plate of pancakes and sausages. Janet nodded. “I’ll cover them with foil and keep them warm in the oven until they join us.”
Janet followed her into the kitchen. “As I’m sure you are aware, Canada’s current laws don’t specify for organizing in hate groups.” She tore off the aluminum foil and handed it to her. “Especially since Section 13 of the Canadian Human Rights Act, which pertained to hate speech, was repealed by the Harper government in 2013. Caroline McMillan and I hope to remedy that by drawing up a new Act. Once completed, it will go to the federal government in Ottawa and our provincial legislature.”
Charlotte closed the oven door and set the temperature dial to 200. “Public education is also an essential piece. Canadians are very complacent. We can’t deny it any longer, it’s too blatant.”
“Do you mind if we join you?” Edward asked. He and Jagdeep stood at the entrance to the kitchen. Ginger sat at their feet with her tongue out and her tail wagging.
“Isn’t—” Janet glanced around for help.
“She,” Charlotte said.
“Isn’t she a cutie-pie.” Janet crouched down and stretched her arm out. “Come here wee one.”
“Her name is Ginger. And I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Edward said.
“Grrrrrrrrrr.”
“Oh, I see.” Janet stood up and backed away.
“I’m sorry we’re late. It couldn’t be helped. Charlotte would you mine brewing fresh coffee. I think you’ll be interested in what Jagdeep has to say.”