Cardboard Dreams

By Tara Nanayakkara

Life is somewhat normal for Vijay and Siyara Pereira—until the blustery night when Vijay’s brother and sister-in-law are killed in a car accident, leaving their temperamental teenager, Jake, an orphan.

After Vijay and Siyara take in their nephew, Siyara realizes she understands Jake better than anyone and begins to love him like a son. Through a shared bond of unfulfilled dreams, they both try to forge their respective paths: Jake through his music and Siyara through her work. But when Jake becomes seriously ill, Siyara’s world begins to implode as her shaky marriage shudders under the weight of too many secrets. Just when it seems that Siyara has no choice but to continue down a lonely path, a confession leads her to a shocking truth that will change everything.

Cardboard Dreams is a touching story about love, loss, and betrayal as a woman and her nephew embark on separate journeys of unrequited dreams where each finds an underlying spirit of hope and triumph in the face of adversity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Sep 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781483436173

Tara Nanayakkara

Tara Nanayakkara was born in Sri Lanka and immigrated to Canada with her family when she was three. She is the author of three novels, To Wish Upon A Rainbow (1989); Picture Perfect (2007); and Priya’s World (2012). A professional writer for the past thirty years, her writing has appeared in the Toronto Star, The Telegram and Canadian Living magazine, among others. She lives in St. John's, Newfoundland, with her husband and two children.

Book preview

Cardboard

Dreams

TARA NANAYAKKARA

Copyright © 2015 Tara Nanayakkara.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-3618-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-3617-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015912652

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 8/28/2015

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Epilogue

Chapter 1

Something wasn’t right with the world when I got ready for bed that December night. The sense of foreboding that dogged me throughout the evening seemed to get stronger with every passing hour. I heard it in the chiming of the brass clock in the living room. Tension had been mounting since my husband Vijay’s seventeen-year-old nephew, Jake, announced last Friday that he was dropping out of school. He had been in the International Baccalaureate program and decided he’d had enough of it.

Now it was Sunday. My understanding of the situation was that Jake had cleaned out his locker on Friday afternoon and dumped its contents into the trash on his way out of school. Throughout the weekend, he sent me plaintive e-mails about the fighting between him and his parents.

I tried to respond with encouragement, but it was hard. Every sentence I wrote came across as hollow platitudes and tired clichés:

Stay in school. Drop out of the IB program if you think it’s too much for you, but at least switch to another stream. You will never regret it. You can’t get any meaningful work without a high school diploma.

This evening, we were to go to Vijay’s twin brother Kevin’s house for dinner, but Kevin’s wife, Joy, had the stomach flu, so the invitation was canceled.

Vijay was restless. He didn’t like the unsettled energy of his brother’s home. Rather than working on his latest book-length manuscript, he paced and paced, and then paced some more.

Siyara, I have a bad feeling. I can’t seem to shake it.

Around 8:00 p.m., he wandered into the kitchen for a beer.

I pulled back the sheers in the living room and peered out the window. The panes were frosted over. The streetlights reflected against the icy sheen on the road.

I know what you’re saying. I turned to face my husband as he returned to the living room.

My hands were cold through nerves as I picked up the iPad from the coffee table.

Any new e-mails from Jake? Vijay peered over my shoulder.

No.

The phone rang.

Vijay picked up the cordless before the second ring.

What? What do you mean, he stormed out in a rage? He took the car? I’ll come. Don’t worry; I’m on my way.

What happened? I asked as he hung up.

That was Joy.

What’s going on? I asked.

She says she was resting on the sofa and Kevin had just settled down to watch the hockey game when Jake said he was borrowing the car to meet some friends.

And?

Kevin told him that since he had chosen to quit school, he could forget about using the family car. If he wanted to be independent, he could bloody well go out and buy his own vehicle. Vijay paused. His words, not mine.

I had to smile. Leave it to Sri Lankans to inject bloody into common parlance no matter what the circumstance.

Then what happened? I pressed.

Jake told his father to, Vijay cleared his throat and quoted, to ‘go eff himself’ … the full word, Siyara.

Joy told you all that?

Yes. He went for his heavy winter jacket.

Shall I come? I followed him into the hallway.

Better not, Vijay said. He grabbed his car keys from the brass key-ring holder on the wall. Jake might come here looking for you, he said with his hand on the doorknob.

That was a possibility. From the time I married into the Pereira family seven years ago, Jake and I had become the best of buddies.

"Auntie, you and my parents might have all grown up in Canada, but as far as I can see, you are the only one who is truly Westernized enough to get it," he’d told me last summer when we’d been sitting on his parent’s front veranda sipping brandied iced coffee—a Sri Lankan hot-weather staple at most gatherings.

My mind went back to that steamy evening in late August. We had gathered at Kevin’s Unionville house for a barbecue.

It was nearing midnight now. I hadn’t heard from Vijay since he’d left the house nearly three and a half hours ago. Neither had I heard from Jake through a call, text, or e-mail.

I was about to call Vijay on his cell phone when the landline rang. I dropped the pink pajamas I had been clutching in my hand and grabbed the receiver on my bedside table.

Siyara. Vijay’s voice sounded far away.

My heart lurched.

Siyara, listen to me, he said in a monotone. Something happened.

What happened? Is Jake all right? Is he home?

Jake is fine. Vijay caught his breath. But … but Kevin and Joy are … there was an accident. His words trailed into heavy silence.

And? I wanted so desperately to plug my ears so I wouldn’t hear what was coming, because somehow, I knew. They’re dead, aren’t they?

Their car skidded on black ice and hit a tree. Vijay lowered his voice to a whisper. Alcohol was involved.

What do you mean alcohol was involved?

Vijay cleared his throat. Kevin had been drinking off and on throughout the evening. He was stressed over Jake I guess.

But why now? He’s known since Friday that Jake had dropped out.

How do I know? Vijay’s voice was tight.

I glanced at the clock radio next to the phone. Barely four hours ago, Vijay had tried to work on his latest blockbuster novel while I had tried to focus on a made-for-TV movie. But then, even then, our minds were unsettled when Joy had phoned Vijay about Jake and the car.

Where are you? I asked, realizing that he could be anywhere since he was calling from his cell phone.

At the hospital—Markham Stouffville, he said. My brother and sister-in-law are dead, Siyara.

The shock of the news created a vast chasm between us. I sensed it was my job to fill the void with aimless platitudes and simplistic words of comfort, but I couldn’t. I cast my eyes toward the ceiling light fixture, as if doing so would give me some inspiration, but my own soul was rocked by this news. A numbness spread over my heart like a protective balm, as if to shield me from this new reality. I was suddenly incapable of feeling any emotion. I clutched the handset tightly. My fingers grew clammy with sweat.

Vijay began to speak again. His voice still retained a deadpan, emotionless tone. Jake had returned by the time I got to their place. There was a big argument. Kevin said he couldn’t take it anymore so he was going for a drive to cool off. Joy was worried about him, so she went with him.

Take what anymore? A drive in this weather? It’s minus five and the roads are like a skating rink.

When did all of this happen? I asked.

I’ll tell you when you get here. I can’t think. My mind’s a mess. Can you just come, please?

I’ll be there as soon as I can.

I was too shaken to drive, so I called a cab.

***

After I paid the cab driver, I began to obsess about our front door. Had I locked it? I remembered arming the security system, but had I locked the damn door? Struggling to shove the troublesome thought out of my mind, I headed for the revolving doors at the emergency room, where I assumed Vijay would be waiting. It hadn’t occurred to me to ask him where he’d be.

As I passed the waiting room, I paid little heed to the handful of people in need of medical attention. Some were sprawled, half asleep, across two or three seats, and others sat, stone-faced and stressed, in armchairs. Vijay was nowhere to be seen.

I received a call from my husband, I said at the triage desk. There was an accident.

What’s his name? a nurse with a Caribbean accent asked as she gazed down at her computer screen.

He … he’s not the patient, I said, clasping my gloved hands together. His name is Vijay Pereira. He called me and said there was an accident … Kevin and Joy Pereira …

Oh, yes; oh, yes. She nodded. Her expression softened. And you must be Siyara; your husband is expecting you.

Where is he? I glanced up and down the hallway. Aside from a stretcher parked beside a wall, there was nothing to see.

Come, dear; I’ll show you the way. Casting compassionate eyes on me, she said something over her shoulder to another nurse and then came around the desk.

We wanted to give him some privacy, so I suggested he come over here. She showed me through a maze of hallways to a room that was set up like a mini-lounge with a series of comfortable chairs, a wooden coffee table, and a Keurig coffee machine on a counter. Although they were the accoutrements of home, the room still held a sterile energy that made my head feel heavy. Vijay was seated on a tired-looking, brown-leather armchair—a chair that had supported one too many worried family members over time. The padding was starting to show on the armrests where the seams of the leather were giving way. A blond gentleman was standing beside him. He was speaking to him in a quiet voice.

Vijay held his head in his hands. He didn’t look up when I approached him.

Vij? I stood, helpless, in front of him. I didn’t know what to say … what to do … so I stood there like an inadequate fool.

He looked up at me through glazed eyes. Very slowly, he got to his feet and enfolded me in a tight embrace.

This is Dr. Norris. He gently pulled away from me and tumbled back into the chair, as if the very act of standing drained his strength.

Hello. I extended my hand to the doctor. I’m Siyara Pereira, Vijay’s wife.

I’m very sorry for your loss, Dr. Norris said.

I studied this middle-aged doctor with the kindly green eyes. Somewhat overweight with a roundish face, he exuded a tranquility that made me feel safe. I would have been relieved if we could have stayed in this moment forever.

What happened, exactly? I looked to both men.

Jake was very upset. Vijay stared straight ahead. His face was expressionless as his tone. He was home by the time I got to their place, around 8:45 or so, I think it was.

You said they argued?

I’ll leave you both to talk. Dr. Norris quietly backed out of the room and shut the door behind him.

Oh, no, I pleaded inwardly. Don’t leave me alone with this … this trauma. I didn’t know what to do or say.

Vijay pulled me down beside him. Although we were slim people, it was still a tight squeeze for two adults. As I yanked off my gloves, I became aware of his body trembling against mine.

What was the argument about? I asked.

I won’t get into details of the argument, Vijay said. It doesn’t matter now. They’re gone.

He snapped his fingers.

I waited for him to continue.

After Kevin and Joy left the house, Jake went into his bedroom and shut the door. I went online to pass the time. I thought they would return within the hour because that’s what Joy had told me. ‘Don’t worry, Vij, I’ll talk sense into your brother,’ she said. I knew the roads were bad. As I said, I went online and checked the weather reports and saw a news alert about an accident near Highway 7 and McCowan.

And?

Vijay shrugged himself away from me and stood up. He began to pace, hands thrust into the pockets of his beige pants. The description was of a navy Honda Accord. Ambulances were on the scene. Both people were transferred to hospital by 11:00.

Then?

Even before they finished the report, I called their cell phones. Vijay closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. There was no answer on either one. I had a really bad feeling. I know there are plenty of cars that are the same make and model as Kevin’s, and I asked myself, what are the odds? But somehow, Siyara, he said and fixed his gaze on me, I just knew. So, on a hunch, I phoned the hospital and explained that I was worried about my brother and sister-in-law, who were driving a navy Honda Accord. I said that he was upset over some family problem and wondered if it could have been his car that was involved in the accident. The person who I spoke to asked me for some identifying information and then she told me that it was very likely the same car and that I might want to get down to the hospital as soon as possible.

Take your time, I insisted.

Siyara … His voice shook. They told me the ambulance had just arrived, and they were unloading the stretchers.

At what point did you find out they had … I couldn’t bring myself to utter the word died.

Died? Vijay’s voice trailed off.

I nodded.

They were killed instantly … on impact. He swallowed.

Mother of God. I clapped a hand over my mouth.

Massive contusions to the brain, lacerated spines at the third and fourth vertebrae. His voice trailed off.

Where is Jake? I asked, unable to digest the medical details.

Sylvia brought him here once I called her to say what happened. Jake was in really bad shape, so they sedated him.

Thank God for Joy’s younger sister, Sylvia. Jake would need all his family members around him now.

Can I see Jake? I asked.

There was a gentle knock on the door.

Come in, Vijay called out.

Dr. Norris reentered.

The police would like to speak to you, the doctor said as he came toward us with measured steps, as if he didn’t want to upset the tenuous calm that had settled within the room.

Tuning out the doctor altogether, Vijay kept his gaze on me. Jake’s fast asleep.

Do you need a few more minutes? Dr. Norris asked as he shifted from one foot to the other.

I knew we were being rude keeping both him and the police waiting. However, the intensity of raw emotion pulsing through our hearts was so deep, I, at least, was unconcerned about how ill-mannered we might have appeared.

Just a minute or two, Vijay pleaded. I’m … just not ready. His shoulders slumped.

I understand. Dr. Norris turned to leave again. He closed the door quietly behind him.

Jake is in shock, Vijay repeated. I don’t think he thought his parents … his dad would get so upset as to storm out of the house the way he did. It was all pretty ugly.

All this because Jake quit school? Even as I said this, I had the distinct feeling that there was far more to the story than Vij was telling me.

As long as I’d known Kevin, he’d been battling depression. Although there had been many things unsaid, one thing had always been apparent to me. Kevin had once told me that he’d felt like the lesser twin. According to him, life had always been easier for Vijay. He got the better marks in school, had the more lucrative career, and yes, a bigger house.

Let’s go, Vijay said abruptly. I want to speak to the police and go to bed. I can’t deal with this anymore.

***