THE LEGACY OF SECRETS

Once past the Shaw Festival Theatre, Russell threw the old Mustang into a higher gear and floored it, racing down the tree-lined boulevard in the opposite direction of the swiftly flowing river. Their speed slowed considerably when a yellow bus pulled out in front just past First Line.

After five minutes of following closely behind the bus packed with small children, some making faces at the siblings through the back window, they pulled into a long driveway that stretched down the middle of a gigantic vineyard.

“I guess Harvey’s lampposts arrived. He ordered them months ago and it looks like he didn’t waste much time installing them.” Russell admired the new landscaping. The elegant posts stood tall at twenty-foot intervals down the long driveway leading up to the massive estate overlooking a sprawling vineyard.

“Harrison’s dad is loaded. He must feel so proud that the winery’s finally gaining recognition. It’s an amazing accomplishment. Although, it’s a little much, don’t you think?” Zanth asked, secretly in awe every time she came over.

“No, I think if Gran and Grandpa had envisioned this kind of success and worked at it, they could have had this too. Different people want different things. And trust me, Harvey wants the good life. Harrison and his brothers are so lucky!”

Russell slowed the car down to a stop. They sat in silence while waiting for Harrison. Watching the morning dew bead on the hood of the car, Zanth was struck by the eerie quiet of Harrison's family vineyard, so isolated and grand in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. The closest neighbor was another mansion way across the outstretching vines.

“Is Harvey a workaholic?” she asked, turning slightly to look at Russell. “I mean, he’s always away for wine conventions or travelling. Harrison kind of runs around free. Doesn’t it bother him?”

“Doesn’t what bother him?”

“You know,” Zanth asked cautiously, “not having a mom and having a jet-setting dad.”

“Don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?” Russell said, catching sight of a bobbing head above the vines in the side mirror. The rising sun hovered at the escarpment like a golden backdrop behind the approaching figure.

Zanth noticed Russell’s gaze and turned, seeing a muscular boy with shaggy black hair emerge from the rows. He opened the back door and fluidly slipped in, placing his backpack down on the seat. He pulled his sweatshirt hood up as if shielding himself from the early hour before slumping back against the headrest.. “Morning,” he grunted.

“Hey, Harrison.” Zanth glanced back quickly and then looked straight ahead. She could feel his eyes burrowing into the back of her.

“Morning, Buddy, where’d you come from?” Russell inquired as he pulled the car around the large circular fountain and back down the long driveway toward the main road.

“I was up at the winery this morning, very early I might add. Harvey’s away and my brothers stayed up at the university last night.”

“Frosh week,” said Russell.

“Yep. I think they’re in a coma right about now. I had to open the main doors for our newest cashier, Shayla. She has serious potential.”

Zanth rolled her eyes.

“I thought I was going to miss you guys.” Harrison sat forward a little; his handsome face half hidden by the hood. “I saw you drive up so I cut through the vineyard to save time. Thanks again for the ride, Russ.”

“No problem. Lincoln’s meeting us at school.”

“Hey, Zanth,” Harrison leaned forward a little more, his face practically resting on her left shoulder. “Sorry for what I said yesterday.”

“You are?” Zanth gaped.

“Yeah. I know your boyfriend is a good guy and everything. He’s just stupid. I can live with that.”

Zanth sneered, annoyed that she’d fallen for his vacant apology. Swiftly pivoting, she stared him down, their noses practically touching, but Harrison didn’t budge. “If that’s your idea of an apology, you have a lot to learn.” She turned back around and fumed, staring out at the road. Harrison grinned slightly and slumped back in his seat. The immediate silence in the car was deafening.

“Okay then, off we go.” Russell suddenly felt like the parent of two stubborn toddlers.

Pulling into the school parking lot, it looked as if most of the school had already arrived. As Russell's Mustang crept down the aisles in search of a spot, Zanth noticed how luxury cars mixed with pick-up trucks and old rusty beaters. She knew exactly who was here by the vehicles they drove. The lovely thing about Niagara Park High School was the interesting combination of kids from farms, old money, and new winery money. The school population was an eclectic mix of adolescents living in a symbiotic co-existence. As was customary at the beginning of each year, everyone jockeyed for their rightful place, kind of like the parking situation. Within the stratosphere of high school, Russell and Zanth fell between the cracks. Although they had lived in Niagara-on-the-Lake their entire lives, their family was anything but old money and their grandparent’s winery was small compared to most. Because of this flexibility, they were friends with practically everyone.

Russell finally found a spot in the last paved row and squeezed in. Most of the seniors drove because the school was in the middle of nowhere. If you didn’t have a car, or access to one, you were stranded. As a senior, taking the yellow bus simply wasn’t an option unless you enjoyed being mortified beyond comprehension.

“Here we go again,” Zanth whispered under her breath while getting out. She enjoyed school, but enjoyed the summer holidays more.

“Hey, guys, I thought you’d never get here!”

Looking up as he shut the door, Russell spotted a smiling boy with neat braids weaving toward them through the maze of cars.

“Morning, Lincoln."

He joined them as they walked slowly toward the school. The field to the right was vibrant green and ready for a new year of sport and the forest and train-tracks in the distance framed the expanse of the wooden bleachers. A hazy mist hovered over the field, the sun not quite hot enough to burn it away entirely.

Arriving back after the summer felt like déjà vu, this being the boys fourth year and Zanth’s third.

“I can’t believe this is it, our last year here. Better make it count,” Russell waxed nostalgic.

“Now that you’re on Student Council, we’re counting on you to be our inside guy, Russ,” Lincoln advised. “And I want all the special perks that come from being associated with you.”

“Count on it.”

“Yeah, and what kind of perks can a Sports Rep offer? An extra jockstrap for gym class or something? Maybe an extra loud cheer from the bleachers?” Said Harrison. Lincoln and Harrison laughed their way across the parking lot as they compared menial perks at Russell’s expense.