Always Watching

thought about Aaron’s view of modern medicine. If Lisa had any aftereffects from her recent overdose, would they get her help? I said, “She’s not well and needs to be with someone who has medical training.”
    “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. I wish I could help.”
    “Thanks, but the only thing that will help is if we can just shut the whole place down. I don’t know how we’re going to be able to do that either.”
    A sound on the other end of the phone, air exhaling. Then, “I’ve been thinking lots since you were here.”
    “And?”
    Her voice became stronger as she said, “I want to make a statement.” Then weakened again, “But if we do this, do I have to testify? I don’t want to have to look at him when I’m talking about what he did. And when I first left the center, I was pretty messed up and did lots of drinking. I don’t want some lawyer making me feel like a piece of crap or the press ripping me apart. I have a kid now.”
    “If the Crown decides to lay charges, they might be able to work something out so you don’t have to go court.”
    Another deep breath. “I’m going to do it, but I need to tell my husband first. He’s working out of town right now, so I can’t talk to him for a few days. I’ll let you know when I’ve gone to the police.”
    “Thanks, I’d appreciate that.” I let out my own breath. We were finally moving forward.
    “Good luck finding your daughter.”
    I was going to need it.
    *   *   *
    Even though Tammy had said that the center wouldn’t tell me if Lisa was there, I looked up their number on my iPhone. The woman who answered was polite but said they weren’t able to give out information on their members. Next I checked my voice mail at the hospital, hoping against hope that Lisa might’ve left a message, but there was just one from Kevin, asking how I was. I called him back, and when he heard my voice he said, “How are you? How’s your daughter?”
    “I don’t know. She just—” I was mortified when my voice broke.
    Kevin said, “What happened?”
    I told him about our argument, then about finding the brochure.
    “I’m really sorry. Is there anything I can do to help? I have some time this afternoon. Do you want to go for a walk and get some fresh air, talk it out?”
    “Thanks, but I’m just going to drive around and see if Lisa’s shown up at any of the shelters.”
    “If you need to talk later, you let me know. Meanwhile, hang in there.”
    I said, “I’ll try,” and took a breath, blowing the air out of my lungs. “I just pray that she’s not at the commune already. She’s so vulnerable right now.” I told him what Tammy had said, about going to the police. “But I don’t know how long it will take to move through the legal channels, or if they’ll even arrest him.”
    “If Lisa is at the center, you still have some time before she becomes too integrated. She could just be at one of the initial retreats, which she might not even enjoy. And if Aaron is arrested, Lisa will probably leave.”
    I thought of Heather, how she’d gone to that first retreat and ended up staying for months, leaving her life, her friends, and her family all behind.
    “I hope you’re right.”
    *   *   *
    I took a drive but didn’t see Lisa. Later in the evening, I headed out again, hoping some of the street folk had come back to the shelter. Though it was a sketchy time of night to be walking around, it was a risk I was willing to take. It was cold, so I bundled up and positioned myself at the edge of the building, with Lisa’s photo in hand. When a group of youths clustered about the front steps, one young man with facial piercings and a skateboard noticed me. He looked friendly, so I smiled tentatively and started toward him. He left the group and met me.
    “You looking for someone?”
    I held out the photo. “Yes, my daughter, her name is—”
    “Lisa.” He nodded. “We’ve hung out a few times. She’s cool.”
    “Do you know where she might be?” I held my breath. Please, God.
    He squinted back at his group of friends, who were starting down the road. “Last time I saw her was a couple of nights ago—she showed up down the alley, said she was going to crash at the Monkey House.”
    “What’s that?”
    “It’s down on Caledonia. The big white house. Careful how you go in there, though. You don’t want them to think you’re a social worker or a cop.”
    “Thanks. Why’s it called the Monkey