The Goose Trail
I have such fond memories of the summer of 13. I spent it with family in Victoria, after my parents got divorced. A healthy distraction is what I needed, and luckily the divorce hadn't split my morals up and I remained able to safely navigate my way through some pretty serious situations. Graham was 28, or so the tale goes. He had sandy red hair and freckles that seemed to distort his face, or maybe it was his creepy gummy voice that did it. He was the local drugdealer who spent time at the lake in Langford, selling god-knows-what to unsuspecting teenagers. It was cast of characters. There was Bunyon, who was 15 and had all the fixings for a future convict. He had already been in trouble with the law, and I'll never forget the day he escaped the hold of a cop outside of Mac's. We were hanging out there with our bikes and the cops showed up with their arrest warrant, and as he was being lead to the car, he twisted his wrist and took off into the woods. I never sa