Gary Celdom Case Journals Anthology: Gary Celdom Case Journals

Chapter 1

So let me get this straight, Jessica said. You’re taking the weekend off to do what again?

I’m taking the weekend off to attend a fan convention for my favorite TV show in town, I replied.

Jessica Amerson, my colleague down at the Division, just shook her head in disbelief. I can’t say I blame her. Here I am, a guy who recently turned the ripe old age of 51, hanging around a bunch of fellow fans who will be attending a fan convention for Northern Winds, a television show which had not been on the air since the turn of the millennium. Chances are most of the people attending are ones who got turned onto Northern Winds via the release of the four seasons on DVD over recent years. I, on the other hand, got hooked on Northern Winds – which was shot in Toronto – during the original airing of its second season.

How many people are attending this thing? she enquired.

The organizers are capping the attendance at 100 people, I responded. They said it was to help keep the intimacy of the event. I can’t say I blame them. Some of these fan conventions could get hundreds or thousands of attendees. Just look at that big one they do down at the Convention Centre every year.

Which is happening next week, my colleague noted. Have you ever missed one of these things?

Actually, this is the first one I’ve ever attended, I admitted. Some people probably have been there since the beginning, or pretty darn close to it.

So Lt. Davies is cool with you booking this time off? Jessica asked skeptically.

He’s been in consultation with Ann, and she suggested I take some time off, I noted.

Just then, I heard a familiar, yet haunting voice off in the corner of the squad room; a voice that has occasionally popped up at the oddest, and sometimes most inconvenient, times.

And what sort of cock and bull story did you tell her to pull this off, Gary? the ghostly feminine voice quipped.

I tried to ignore the voice of the spirit of one Karen Prairie, the woman I was once engaged to years ago.

Did you tell Ann that you had another traumatic case, and you needed to take a brief stress leave? my former fiancée harassed while I continued to attempt to ignore her. Let’s be honest, Gary, she continued. The last time you had any real stress was when you had that Barbadian bimbo pay you a visit for your fiftieth birthday last year.

The Barbadian bimbo would be my ex-girlfriend, Elaine Abraham; a young woman I had a long-distance relationship with when I was investigating the murder of my former colleague, Rob McManus, who was celebrating a second honeymoon with his wife Maureen. Elaine and I would break up a year later. She cited the distance was too much to bear; however, I would find out later she had met someone local and decided to leave me for him. However, by the time Elaine came to visit me for my birthday last year, the two of them had broken up, and she wanted to get back together with me. But, during the time apart, I came to realize long- distance relationships take a toll on oneself; a lesson I should have realized once I lost Karen on our wedding day when she was assassinated by Russian terrorists hell-bent on revenge. It’s taken me a very long time to let Karen go; so much so, she still haunts me to this day.

Jessica noticed I was starting to get slightly agitated for some unknown reason, but it was definitely by Karen’s ghostly criticism.

Are you alright, Gary? she asked.

Yeah, I’m just having a flashback again, I feigned an excuse, as I took a sip of my coffee.

Isn’t the medication Ann prescribed you working? my colleague quizzed.

It is to an extent, I confessed, but, I still have the odd episode.

Seriously, Gary, Karen razzed, resorting to drugs to deal with someone you haven’t been able to fully move on from? That’s not the Gary Celdom I know and was going to marry.

Do you think you should talk to her about getting the levels adjusted? Jessica wondered. I know the counselling helps some, and the odd time off, but this is something that’s been troubling you for a while now.

Twenty years, I confessed. It’s not something I want to live with, but it’s a cross I’ve had to bear for that long. I just can’t live down the fact she died in my arms, Jessica. When that happens to you, it’s something that scars you for life.

I can imagine, she nodded. She was the one you were supposed to marry. If that happened to me, and it was my soon-to-be husband dying in my arms, I would have some serious mental and emotional issues too.

Sister, you don’t know the half of it, Karen mocked. Getting a bullet in the shoulder is one thing, but when you have one pierce your skull, and then another right through the heart, it’s the worst feeling in the world. The blood, scars, and trauma are too much for anyone to endure.

And the mental aftermath lingers on for years afterwards, I muttered sarcastically at Karen, just like I’m experiencing right now.

No need to get snippy, Gary, Karen shot back. I know it hasn’t been easy for you over the years, but you really needn’t turn it towards me.

I returned my attention to Jessica and confided, It’s something I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. That’s why Lt. Davies suggested I start talking to Ann after that whole episode with Elaine last year.

I still can’t believe she would travel all the way to Toronto to try to patch things up with you, Jessica stated, as she shook her head.

I guess she thought she had a shot in getting back together with me, I opined. But I moved on, albeit reluctantly, and I thought she should be too. Let’s face it; I’m no spring chicken anymore. I’ve been in this business now for nearly 30 years now. I don’t need to go chasing after young women who live practically on the other side of the globe.

You got that right, Karen smirked.

Have you thought about retiring anytime soon, Gary? Jessica enquired.

You’d think I would after everything I’ve been through over the years, I conceded. However, there’s still plenty of fight left in this dog. I’ve been shot, stabbed, had broken bones and lacerations, but as long as I still keep ticking, I’m going to keep on keeping on. Besides, there are still some criminals that need to be put behind bars out there, and I’m going to do my damnedest to bring them to justice.

Or at least die trying in the process, Karen criticized.

Jessica stood up from the edge of the desk she was sitting on, Anyway, I should get back to my paperwork. Are you going to be in for much longer?

I just have to finish these reports before I can bugger off, I noted.

Alright, she mentioned. Just let me know when you leave. If I’m not at my desk, you have my cell number. Send me a text to let me know you’ve left, and I will see you back here on Monday.

Will do, Jessica, I confirmed.

Jessica smiled at me as she walked back to her desk at the other end of the office. I smiled back as I watched her walk off. Karen noticed me looking at my colleague, and shot me one of the most unimpressed looks I’ve come to expect from her.

You know she’s flirting with you, the ghost of my former fiancée commented.

She is not, I denied.

Jeez Gary, are you getting blind at your old age? she quipped. ’Send me a text to let me know you’ve left’? If that’s not a flirtatious comment, I don’t know what is.

Jessica is just my colleague, Karen. She’s just as concerned about my health and wellbeing as you are.

Still, I think she’s looking at you as possibly more than just a colleague.

I don’t think that’s possible. Dating a fellow colleague is wrong.

You dated and were engaged to me.

That’s different, I stated.

How do you figure?

When you and I met, while we were members of the same security force, you lived in Edmonton while I was here in Toronto. We weren’t working side by side on a daily basis.

And working together in the same city would have been a problem?

It would’ve been frowned upon by our Superior Officer, I attempted to reason. You know how some people can be about two officers dating in the same workplace.

Gary, you have got to be the dumbest shit I’ve ever known, Karen shot back. You do realize if we were successful in getting married, I would’ve had to move to Toronto or you to Edmonton, and we would be working together.

Maybe not directly together; we might’ve been assigned to different Divisions or something.

That’s highly unlikely. In all likelihood, we would’ve been working in the same Division. Maybe with different partners, but we would definitely be in the same workplace.

Be it as it may, it would be you or I marrying into there. If things were to happen with Jessica, I would be dating a colleague in a Division where we were both originally working. It might be acceptable amongst our superiors, but you know how inter-office gossip can be.

And far be it for you to toot your own horn, Karen deadpanned.

What is that supposed to mean?

Oh, I don’t know, Gary. How about the number of times you’ve bragged about your role in that Security Force we both worked in? How you were responsible in apprehending all of those Russian terrorists, and saved Team Canada in Calgary. Does that ring any bells?

It was a hallmark case, I meekly noted.

Damn it, Gary, it was a team effort. You just come off as more of a glory hog whenever you’ve claimed you were the one behind their arrest.

I just sat at my desk and thought about it. As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. All of these years I had been glossing over the fact I was just one member of a cross-Canada team who were policing the World Winter Games when the terrorists struck. While we were successful in apprehending them in the end, many lives were taken at the Russians’ hands during those 16 days. Then again, one could have easily argued one life lost was one life too many. Looking back, it was a black mark not only on the Games themselves, but on our unit as a whole. I tend to highlight the positives from that fortnight: the apprehension of the terrorist group, and the fact I first met Karen then. Everything else from that bloody February underneath those blue Alberta skies was something I had been attempting to block over all of these years.

You’re right, I sighed. I have been bragging too much about it. It’s just we tried our best to get those Russians, but didn’t stop them earlier.

I don’t blame you, Karen nodded. A lot of innocent lives were lost then. It was a traumatic two and a half weeks on us all.

It was one of the most brutal events I had ever endured up to that point. I don’t think any of us were ever really the same after that.

I know I wasn’t. Tell me, Gary, what would you rank as the more horrific event in your life: those two weeks in Calgary, or the day I was gunned down?

I thought about it for a minute before responding, On sheer carnage alone, it was that case in Calgary. But, on a sheer emotional level, it had to be when I lost your physical being in my arms.

That’s what I was hoping for.

What, you were testing me?

Just wanted to see if you really still cared about me, Karen grinned deviously.

Karen, I’m having a conversation with your spirit, just like I’ve been sporadically for the past twenty years. If that’s not a sign about my emotional investment in you, I don’t know what is.

Duly noted, she smirked.

Anyway, I need to get these reports finished, so could you please leave me be for a while?

Sure thing, Gary; I’ll talk to you later.

With that, the ghost of my deceased fiancée vanished. I sighed and shook my head. While she may be a bit of a pain in the ass, Karen is always a good friend and a voice of reason, even in the afterlife. I turned my attention to the computer on my desk, shut off my internet meme-themed screensaver, and began to type up the report I was working on.

Chapter 2

With my reports done, I left to start my weekend off from the Division’s daily grind. Jessica wasn’t at her desk when I took off, so I exercised my thumbs. I sent her a text message to let her know I had gone, and I would see her on Monday. After I sent the text, I started to think about what Karen had said. Could Jessica be reading into things more than they actually were? Did my colleague believe I was showing interest into something beyond a professional relationship? Truth be told, I hadn’t been in a relationship since Elaine broke up with me nearly three years ago. My psychiatrist at the Division, Ann Knoblach believed I was reluctant to start up again with Elaine when she visited me last year because I was still hurting from Karen. However, one could argue if I truly was, I wouldn’t have started a relationship originally when I was in Barbados working on Rob’s murder. The mind and heart can work in weird ways, but sometimes the two are not always on the same page. Regardless, I figured it would be something I would need to have a heart-to-heart discussion with Jessica if we ever got the opportunity to talk outside of the Division’s walls.

I made my way to the parking lot and to my car when I realized something: with my being occupied this weekend with the convention, I would not have a lot of time to look after Benny, my pet husky. There is only one person I know who I could trust to keep an eye on him, my long-time dog sitter, Geny Phillips. I pulled out my cell phone again, and decided to give her a call.

Hello, she answered.

Hello, Geny? I responded. It’s Gary.

Oh, hello Gary; how are you doing?

Pretty good, my friend; I’m just getting ready to take a little time off from work.

Oh, are you? Are you taking Benny up to your cottage in the Kawarthas?

Actually, I’ll be busy attending a weekend-long event here in the city, and will be otherwise occupied for the next three days.

So, I’m guessing you’d like me to watch him while you’re ‘otherwise occupied’?

If it’s not too much trouble, please; while I’ll still be in town, I’m not sure how long I will be there on a daily basis. Besides, I’m sure Siren will be glad to see him.

Sure, Gary, my friend sighed. The two of them always get along so well.

Some may argue a little too well.

It’s a good thing we both got them fixed when we did. At my age, I’m not ready to care for a litter of husky-golden doodle pups.

Nor am I, really. Then again, my job is pretty stressful as it is. Having to potty-train a few newborn dogs would wear on me as much as trying to raise a child alone.

I thought you didn’t have any kids, Gary.

I don’t, but I can imagine being a single parent, regardless of the species, would drain one’s energy.

But, parenthood is still one of the great joys a person can experience. Until they reach their teen years; then, all hell breaks loose.

You do have a point there, she laughed.

Anyway, I attempted to move the conversation along, I’m on my way back to my place, so I’ll drop him off on my way to the event tomorrow morning.

Sure thing, Gary; I’ll see you then.

Will do; thanks again.

Anytime, my friend, she finished and hung up.

Good ole Geny, I knew I could count on her. However, she did sound a little exasperated when I asked her to look over Benny. I’ll have to buy her a peace offering on my way home tonight and give it to her in the morn. Fortunately, I happen to know that she is a tea aficionado; always wanting to try new and exotic teas. As luck would have it, I learned of a new location of a popular tea boutique with the younger set had opened up on Queen Street East near Kew Gardens. I got into my car and pulled out of the Division’s parking lot, to head towards The Beach.

After picking up 100 grams of a watermelon-flavored herbal, and a special steeping pitcher, I headed back to my car, and navigated the maze of neighboring streets to get back onto Queen Street, and onward to my little bungalow in East York. As expected, I was greeted by Benny as soon as I walked through the door. That’s the great thing about dogs: if you’re nice to them, they’re always happy to see you whenever you come home. I maneuvered around him, and set my tea package for Geny on the kitchen counter; playfully scratching behind his ear, once the parcel had been moved aside.

Sorry, Benny, I informed him. I didn’t bring anything home for you today. This is a peace offering for Geny. She seemed a little disenchanted when I asked her to look after you this weekend.

The husky’s ears perked up almost immediately. He knew a visit to Geny’s usually meant a chance for him to get together with Siren, a golden doodle Benny had a mad crush on. Somehow, I believe the feeling is mutual as Geny’s dog has a soft spot for him too.

Yes, boy, I smiled, as I sat down at the kitchen table, that means you get to see Siren too.

Benny barked his approval, and walked up to me to lick my face in thanks for allowing him to see his girlfriend. However, his expression soon changed, as it began to sink in; him staying at Geny’s usually meant I was going away somewhere. He looked up at me with a worried look in his eyes.

I’m not going out of town this time, I explained to my husky. I’m attending a convention over near Yorkville this weekend, and I’m not sure how much time I would be able to spend with you.

Benny continued to look at me with concern. I can’t say I blame him, though. Usually whenever I went away, and left him at Geny’s it’s because I’m working on a case which takes me out of the Greater Toronto Area. The only problem was, the majority of the time, those cases usually resulted in yours truly spending time in a hospital; recovering from wounds suffered during the investigation.

I know, I know, I sighed exasperatedly. You’re worried about my health and wellbeing; especially since I’ll be in a hotel ballroom with a bunch of strangers I’ve never met in my life. But, you really shouldn’t. The only thing that could happen to me is if there’s a stampede of diehard fans trying to rush to the front of the autograph line to meet Peter; provided he makes an appearance.

Peter meant Peter Grossman, the big star of Northern Winds; who in the final two seasons also co-produced the show. To the fans of Northern Winds, he is their equivalent of a certain Montréal-raised actor to a legion of sci-fi fans. Sure, there were two other male co-stars in Northern Winds’ run: Dennis Molinaro was Grossman’s sidekick in the first two seasons; however, for reasons that really didn’t need explaining at the current juncture, he wasn’t able to return for the final two seasons. Instead, they hired Cal Kenneth Robbins as Molinaro’s replacement. Ever since, there had been avid debate amongst the fans as to who was the better co-star: Dennis or Cal. While both have their merits, personally, I believe there was better chemistry with Dennis. I hoped I wouldn’t be judged by those in Team Cal for not siding with them. Fans of certain factions can be quite steadfast in their preferences; whether it be which of the two space captains from the aforementioned sci-fi series was better, or in terms of modern day fans which of the two main male characters from a series of popular vampire books. I’m just thankful Dennis doesn’t sparkle though; it would’ve made the show I love extremely cheesy.

The one good thing about this event being in town, I don’t have to worry about scrambling around trying to book airfare or finding a hotel room. I can rely on my car for transportation, and sleep in the comfort of my own bed here at home. It would be awfully lonesome though without Benny in the house with me, but with there being no telling of how late the days usually run, there was no guarantee I would have been able to spend much quality time with him. Having him stay with Geny and Siren would at least give him some loving attention in my absence. Thankfully, I would have my cell phone with me, so if need be, I could give my dog sitter a jingle, and ask her if I could speak to the little guy for a couple minutes. I’m sure he’d miss me as much as I’d miss him.

After having a sensible dinner, and watching a bit of the Jays’ game, I decided to pop online and check for parking near the convention hotel. The event was being held at a hotel on Bloor Street, just east of Yonge; near Yorkville. I knew there were bound to be some parking garages in the area, but I wasn’t sure where the closest one to the hotel was situated.

Fortunately for me, there was an underground garage adjacent to the hotel; which is also part of an Uptown shopping complex. That would be perfect for me, and would also save the need to shell out $6 daily to ride the TTC for what would amount to a 5-minute bus ride down to the Danforth and then a subway ride westbound for 5 stops. Granted, compared to how much they would probably charge for parking, riding The Rocket would be more economical in the long run; however, should I need to make an emergency get away to the Division – albeit possibly unlikely – I would have my ride readily available if it came to that. After checking my email, I realized the time and decided to turn in for the night. The organizers said they had a big announcement to make during the opening introduction at 9 a.m., so I want to make sure I was able to drop off Benny and Geny’s gift before I booted it to the hotel to check-in. Whatever their announcement was, it had the makings of something important. Little did I realize at the time the events of that morning would neither be what I, nor everyone else were expecting.

Chapter 3

My alarm went off at 6:30 the next morning. Normally, I like to sleep in on my days off. However, with the registration for the convention starting at 8:30, and I still had to drop off Benny and my gift from the tea boutique at Geny’s, I figured now was as good a time as any to start my morning routine. I ended up switching the alarm over to the radio, and let it play my favorite morning show as I fumbled around my bedroom, and stumbled towards the bathroom in my half-asleep state. I splashed some cool water from the sink on my face in a bid to wake me up. It did the trick, as I began to recognize my grizzled face. My years as a detective with the Toronto Police had taken their toll on me, yet I still keep on keeping on. Normally, today would be another day of trying to make a living on the mean streets of Hogtown, but thankfully, I’m not going to be working the beat, or so I originally thought.

I did my usual morning routine of grooming and preening, before dressing myself in the most basic of attire: a non-discrete plain grey T-shirt and jeans. As I was getting dressed the hosts of the morning radio show did their intro after the news at the top of the hour.

It’s Friday morning here in The Big Smoke, and you know what that means, D-Mac, the one radio co-host said.

It sure does, J.A.M. Master, D-Mac crowed. It’s time to start looking forward to the weekend. Here’s Rita Billings; right here on CTOR!

Playing Rita Billings at 7 a.m. on Fridays had become a tradition with J.A.M. Master and D-Mac ever since the novelty hit first made its way into the social consciousness last year. Some people say it’s the worst song ever to have been recorded. Personally, I thought the song was rather catchy; however, I could see why there were people who hated on it, as the youth of today say. The ditty was so Auto-tuned, and the lyrics were completely inane; yet, it had become a musical cult classic. Just like the 1960’s song by The Thrashers which earned resurgence a couple years ago, thanks to an American animated TV comedy series. It had become cool to be annoyingly bad.

I went downstairs, and ate my breakfast while I listened to the radio a little more. I figured I’d be a little low key today, so I left my badge and police ID at home; a mistake I would regret later on. All I really needed was my driver’s license, and some cash for the parking garage and any meals I would end up partaking in while in the vicinity of the hotel. I figured I’d grab a coffee on the way to the hotel for a quicker convenience. I gathered Benny and Geny’s package and headed out the front door. I noticed it was a clear, warm morning, and the sun was shining brightly since it rose nearly an hour-and-a-half before. Today seemed like a calm day. Little did I realize, a few hours later it would become anything but.

The drive to Geny’s is a mere couple of miles from my East York bungalow. I was worried I would have prematurely awakened her from her slumber. Much to my surprise, she was up with Siren when I knocked on her door.

Good morning, Gary, she greeted.

Good morning, Geny, I returned. I’ve come to drop off the precious cargo.

Benny began to run into the house, when I passed his leash off to Geny; however, he didn’t need to run far as Siren was practically right at the doorway to begin with.

I also brought you a peace offering.

A peace offering; to what do I owe this for?

Well, you seemed a little disenchanted when I asked you to look after Benny, I explained, as I handed my dog sitter the gift bag. So, I bought you a little something. It’s some watermelon-flavored herbal tea, and a steeping pitcher.

Why thank you, Gary. Do you have time to have a spot?

I’m afraid not. The registration starts in about 45 minutes, and with it being rush hour, it might take me that long to get over to Yonge & Bloor and find a parking spot. Can I have a rain check for that offer?

Sure thing, Gary; we can have some another time.

I turned to Benny and warned him, Now behave while I’m gone. I know you’ve been fixed, but I don’t want you knocking boots with Siren out in the backyard, okay?

Benny gave me a kiss as I patted him goodbye.

I’ll see you on Sunday night, Geny, I said, as I hugged my friend. And thanks again.

Anytime, Gary; I’m going to try a cup of this tea you gave me.

I made my way to my car, and drove off to a coffee shop drive-thru; where I picked up a 10-ounce cup of java, and made my way to the parking garage adjacent to the hotel. As expected, the parking rates were expensive, but that’s the norm here in Toronto. A news report last year stated the city had the second highest parking rates in Canada, only trailing Calgary for top honors. I just shook my head, as I obtained a ticket and drove around the garage in a bid to locate a spot; eventually finding one on the second level. I grabbed my wallet and my coffee, and proceeded to make my way towards the hotel. Much to a slight inconvenience, the top floor of the one elevator only took you to outside the side door that leads into the hotel lobby. I would eventually find out there was another elevator I had to take to my left, that would lead me to the registration desk and the eventual ballrooms where the main convention proceedings would be taking place. I sighed at this revelation, and took the second elevator up the one floor to where I needed to go.

Upon arriving at the hotel’s first floor and turning off the elevators, I ran right into the registration desk. Sitting there was a portly woman sporting a brunette-colored bob-cut hairstyle.

Good morning, the woman greeted in a British accent. Are you here for the convention?

Good morning, I greeted back. I am. The name is Gary Celdom.

The woman perused her list for my name and checked me off. She reached into a huge box behind the table, and handed me a red tote bag containing my ID badge and other fun trinkets.

We’re still setting up the main room, but you can wait in the adjacent Yorkville Room. The other attendees will be making their way in there to start.

Thank you, I smiled, as I slipped on my ID badge lanyard, and made my way into the side room.

The room was relatively small, but had a merchandise table set up offering wares from an alumni association affiliated with Northern Winds. I perused the selection, and noticed various T-shirts, postcards, and tote bags. A couple things caught my eye, but I decided to gamble, and held off on purchasing anything for now, in hopes there would still be items available later on in the weekend. Besides, I’ve heard reports there would be a charity auction later on in the weekend with autographed scripts from the show on the block. I’d at least attempt to see which ones were being sold, in case there was one I could make a valid bid for.

I took a seat by one of the walls, and surveyed the room. There were a few tables set up with chairs at them with additional mingling space for the attendees. Since there was a good chance I wouldn’t know anyone here, I decided to keep to myself, and not interject myself too much. You know how it can be when you’re in an unfamiliar setting: you don’t want to come across as being too forceful. Besides, I’ll admit I’m not much of a person who mingles, unless it’s in a work setting. The time I participated in

NoMo, a month-long novel writing challenge, a couple years ago was the rare exception; where I wrote a 50,000-word novel in a month. That ended up being a real challenge because it turned into a murder investigation. A deranged member of the Toronto chapter started killing off a few of his fellow writers because he objected to the tactic where the victims were inserting him into their literary creations for the sole comedic purpose of killing his character off. I’ve come across my share of deranged people over the years, but that one really took the cake.

I sipped on my coffee, as some of the other attendees made their way into the room. Most people recognized each other from the previous conventions, and began to socialize with one another. I was content to being inconspicuous against the wall when I heard a male voice call out to me.

Toronto Phoenix? the voice asked. I trailed the voice, and found a man of medium height, and stocky build, wearing a Hamilton Tiger-Cats jersey waving at me. He looked familiar to me, but I couldn’t place him at first. However, I was able to narrow the field down some, as he called me by the username I had utilized during that novel writing campaign three years before.

It’s me, he spoke again, as he walked towards me, Outsider in Steeltown.

Outsider, I finally recognized him. Oh my God, what are you doing here?

I’m here for the convention. Are you here for it too? Or, is this ‘official business’?

I shook his hand, and offered him the seat beside me. I am; this is my first time at one of these. Please, sit down.

Thank you kindly. You’re going to enjoy these. I’ve been attending these since the second one in ’97, and they’re always a blast. There’s question and answer sessions with the cast and crew, autograph signings, the charity auction – which is always quite fun, and the gala dinner on Saturday night.

It sounds like quite a fun itinerary, Outsider.

Please, Toronto Phoenix, he began to say.

Actually, I interrupted, could you call me ‘Gary’? ‘Toronto Phoenix’ seems rather verbose, and people will look at me funny.

No problem, Gary. I was just going to ask you do the same for me. My real name’s Phil, but most of the people who know me at these conventions refer to me as ‘Bennett’.

You mean after the dog in the show?

"Exactly; it’s been an online nickname I’ve adopted since I started watching Northern Winds back from its original broadcast run, and I’ve been running with it ever since."

"That’s fair enough. Is there a particular actor or actress you like from

Northern Winds?"

Most of the people who attend are female, so they tend to gravitate towards Peter, Dennis, or Cal. But for me, it’s Rachel Mullins.

The gal who played Francine, I asked.

The same; her ‘Think of me fondly’ line from the second episode in Season Two still gets me weak in the knees to this day.

Just then, someone called out to my seatmate. Bennett! a female voice bellowed.

Oh, Natalie’s here, Phil noted. Do you want to meet the rest of the crew?

Sure thing; oh, could you do me another favor, Phil? What is it, Gary?

Could you not tell anyone else around here that I’m a detective? Since this is a convention about a cop show, I don’t want people quizzing me about my career.

Not a problem; your secret is safe with me.

The two of us made our way over to one of the tables where we found a collection of women sitting around, and messing with what looked like trading cards.

Natalie, darling, Phil greeted one of the women, so good to see you again.

Hello, Bennett, an elder woman, who had called out to him a few moments before, stood up and hugged him.

How was the trip up from Pennsylvania?

Long, as always, and you know we had to stop in Buffalo to visit Denise. And how is your daughter doing?

She’s hanging in. Although, her ex is still being a complete pain; making her life miserable.

Do you want me to make a special trip across the Peace Bridge, and take care of him for her? my friend suggested with a chuckle.

Now Bennett, I interjected, I don’t think that is the type of thing you should be offering in this current setting.

I know, Phil admitted to me, and I purely mean it in jest. But, if you knew how much of a louse Denise’s ex is, you’d want to do something about too.

Who’s your friend, Bennett? I don’t believe you’ve introduced him yet.

Oh, how rude of me; Natalie, this is Gary. He’s a guy I met back when I started that novel writing thing three years ago.

Pleased to meet you, Natalie, I greeted.

You too, Natalie shook my hand. "Have you been a fan of Northern Winds for very long?"

I’ve been one ever since the show’s original run. I didn’t know there were fan conventions for it.

Actually, Phil began to explain, "when Northern Winds originally aired, there were fan conventions every year; from 1996 until the show ended in 1999. Back in 2008, Shawn and Jake resurrected them, and they’ve been held bi-annually ever since."

And you said you’ve been attending these since 1997?

That’s right, 1996 is the only one I did not attend, but that’s because I didn’t find out about it until after a couple months afterwards. I signed on the following year, and I haven’t missed one since.

Wow, that was fifteen years ago. Are there any others who’ve been attending these for that long?

Only one, a woman named Debbie. She lives out in Burlington, and like me, she’s got the streak of six straight going on too. I’m sure you’ll run into her this weekend.

So Bennett, Natalie asked Phil, have you completed your set yet?

Not yet; I came in here, saw Gary, and started chatting with him. I don’t know what I have, or what I need yet.

Set? I asked confused. What set?

In your tote bag there’s an envelope containing a random collection of trading cards, Natalie explained. But, it’s not a complete set; some of them are doubles.

I dug into my bag, and found the envelope she spoke of. Inside were a collection of glossy-papered photos; depicting a selection of episodes from Northern Winds over its’ four seasons on the air.

The object is to go around the room, and complete your set of cards, Phil added. It’s a collection game, but it’s also a mingling exercise at the same time.

That’s quite an ingenious way of meeting others.

Yes, it’s a great ice-breaker.

I took an inventory of the cards that I had; noting what I needed and what I had extras of, and began to navigate around the room to see what deals I could hammer out. In the process, I met a few people, and began to grasp how far the show had been able to reach around the world. I would meet Merle, a young woman from Belgium, Faith and her son Matt who came in from Wales, and a trio of young ladies from the American Pacific coast named Beth, Julie, and Shirley. I would return to the table with Phil and Natalie, and surveyed my progress with them.

How did you guys do? I enquired.

I’m short a number 5 and a number 9, Natalie answered.

A blonde woman wearing glasses sitting with us meekly spoke up, I have a 9. Do you have a 10?

I have a spare 10, Phil chimed in. How about a 4?

I can do that, the woman replied shyly, as she passed him the card. Thank you kindly.

Oh, I’m sorry, Natalie interjected. You guys haven’t been introduced. Bennett and Gary, this is Marlene.

Pleased to meet you, I extended my hand. Same here, Marlene took mine and shook it. Marlene is a first time attendee like you, Gary.

Oh, she is? What part of the world do you hail from?

San Francisco; I didn’t want to tell anyone on the Forum I was making the trek to Toronto until I actually got here.

That’s understandable, Phil noted. Meeting new people can be rather intimidating. I’m the same way.

Hold on a minute, I interrupted, ’the Forum’?

Yes, there is a message board that Bennett, Marlene, and I know each other from. There are plenty of friends we’ve made through there, and they have shown up at the past couple of conventions.

Are there any others from the Forum showing up this year? Phil asked.

Well, aside from yourself and Marlene, there’s Siobhan, Faith, Lindsay, and I believe Liz is showing up too.

Liz is coming? Marlene perked up. She was able to make it away from her studies in Kansas?

She doesn’t have any university classes during the summer, Phil pointed out, but she’s usually busy with the camp she’s a counsellor at.

And all of these people met through this message board? I quizzed. That’s astonishing. Where is the furthest anyone has anyone joined from?

Oh, we have people from all over the globe who log onto there, Natalie responded. Australia, the U.K., Germany, the Czech Republic, Trinidad; just to name a few. In fact, just the other week we had someone from Poland who joined up.

Amazing, Phil remarked. "It’s hard to believe Northern Winds has been able to reach the lives of so many counties."

It is quite remarkable, I do admit, Marlene added.

I sat there in awe of this revelation. I knew the show had quite an appeal, but to reach parts of the globe that I could not have even begun to imagine was a testament to the legacy Northern Winds had been able to provide.

Are you staying at the hotel, Gary? Phil posed.

No, I’m sleeping at home, and driving to and from the hotel on a daily basis.

He grabbed a pen from inside his tote bag, tore off a strip of paper from one of the pamphlets included in it, and scribbled down a web page address.

Here’s the URL for the Forums, he explained, as he handed me the slip. Feel free to check us out when you get the chance.

Thanks, Bennett. I’ll take a look at it the next time I’m online.

The four of us continued to scramble around to complete our respective card sets. Phil was first to obtain the entire series from our little quartet. Marlene soon followed afterwards. I was still looking for a number 1, while Natalie was lacking a number 12. It would be a task the two of us needed to continue as the weekend drew on.

At about 9:45 a.m., it was announced that the main ballroom was finally ready, and we were invited to take our seats for the Opening Ceremonies.

Shall we make our way in there? Natalie asked. Yes, I agreed as I stood up, I believe we should.

The four of us made our way into the adjacent room, and prepared for what was about to transpire. But, no one could have truly predicted what did happen.

Chapter 4

The four of us, along with everyone else who came to the convention, filed into our seats for the official opening to the event. Marlene, Natalie, Phil, and I found a group of empty chairs together in the middle of one of the sections. I was surprised to see how much of an intimate group had made the trek to Toronto for the weekend.

Say, Bennett, I whispered to Phil, is the turnout always this small? I would have expected more people to show up.

The organizers of the recent conventions decided it’s better to have an intimate number of attendees, he explained. Back during the height of the show, we had 400 people show up to these.

400 people attended? That must have been an organizational nightmare.

It was; I’m surprised they were able to fit all of them in here. But, when Shawn and Jake decided to resurrect the conventions, they felt limiting the number of registrants could make for a smoother running event. As it is, they capped the number of attendees this year at 100.

That’s still a decent number for a show which hasn’t been on the air in thirteen years.

"True; however, in that time there’s been the syndication deal, and the release of Northern Winds on DVD. Plus, the show has been dubbed in so many languages. So, while they have not shot any new episodes in years, the afterglow of them is still pretty much alive."

A noted testament by all of the people who are here this weekend, I acknowledged.

Exactly; that’s why I’m still here after all these years.

You, my friend, are a true fan.

Until my grave, Gary; which I hope won’t be for a very long time, Bennett answered with a chuckle.

Two men made their way to the front of the room, and prepared to make some announcements.

Good morning, everyone, one of them spoke.

Good morning, the crowd acknowledged.

I want to welcome everyone to this year’s convention. I believe everyone here knows me, but for the first-time attendees, and I know there are at least a couple of them, I’d like to introduce the Organizing Committee. My name is Shawn, and to my left is Jake.

The other man at the front waved in acknowledgement. Shawn was a tall, medium-built man with short, black hair. His partner-in-crime has a hairstyle even shorter than him, and was stockier in build. Shawn then turned his attention to a young woman with short hair, as well, that had been dyed blonde.

Manning the video camera on my right is Susan. She will be shooting the proceedings this weekend for a DVD that we’ll be giving to the cast and crew who will be showing up during the convention, and we’ll be offering it for sale on the website after the event. Also on the committee, beside Jake, is Brad, who did a wonderful job organizing the walking tour of the Distillery District last night.

An older gentleman sporting a goatee waved hello to the audience.

You guys did a tour of the Distillery District last night? I whispered to Phil.

A few of us did. Mostly people who came to town early showed up. It was a bonus event you had to sign-up for via email.

Damn, I was busy working yesterday. Oh well, I should go on a walk down there on my own sometime. I’ve never been there before.

Neither was I until last night. It’s really nice down there.

Just a note to everyone that signed up for it, Shawn continued, tomorrow we’ll be having breakfast down at the diner on King Street made famous in the first season. Brad, what are the details on that?

We’re going to be meeting up in the lobby at 8 a.m. and taking the subway down. If you’re late, you’ll have to find your own way down there. So, make sure you’ve set your alarm so you can get up and down there on time, Bennett.

A few of the attendees laughed at my writing buddy, much to his chagrin.

What’s that all about? I asked him.

The last convention, Natalie explained, Bennett was supposed to go to the breakfast event, but ended up sleeping through his alarm.

I didn’t get back home from the Friday night proceedings until midnight and missed it, he confessed. It’s a long ride on the bus and subway to and from East Scarborough.

Do you want me to give you a wake-up call in the morning then, buddy? I ribbed.

While I appreciate the gesture, I’ll have to decline. I don’t want my roommate to bitch at me for being woken up by someone calling for me on a Saturday morning.

He’s behaving himself now, is he? Natalie asked.

Yeah, he is; he’s been sober for two years now. Besides, he knows that if he ever had a relapse, I’d be the first person to call his dad, and he doesn’t want me to do that again.

Was there a problem with him back then? I quizzed.

It’s a long story, Gary; one I don’t want to go through ever again. But, I will sum it up in three words: week-long drinking binge.

Enough said.

I also have some announcements about who will be showing up this weekend, Shawn resumed. Later on, we’re going to have Sgt. Terrence come in, and speak with us. For those of you who’ve attended the previous two conventions, his discussions about his life on the police force have always been enjoyable, and it is a pleasure to have him return again this year. Tonight, Jerry Sentinel, who composed some of the music for the show, will be here to talk about how it was writing the different scores for the various episodes; including the theme song. And, I hear he’s bringing his guitar with him this year, so you’ll all be in for a treat.

That will be a blast, Natalie commented to our little quartet. Jerry’s always fun and entertaining.

Tomorrow afternoon, the Organizing Committee head continued, We’re going to have appearances and autographs with Caroline Brenzer, Tim Molitor, Toby Christopher, Clarissa Stevens, and Rachel Mullins.

I noticed Phil began to perk up when he heard the name of his favorite actress from the show; so much so, that Natalie had to restrain him a bit. However, he wasn’t the only one whose eyes lit up at the mention of Rachel’s attendance, as Jake’s eyes appeared to grow bigger too. So, it appears she has a couple fans here this weekend.

Unfortunately, Shawn began to inform the crowd, "there are a few people who won’t be able to make it here this weekend. Due to a prior shooting commitment, Dennis Molinaro will be unable