doctors."
The woman Mercedes walks into the kitchen. "I finished the inventory of the bathroom. I didn't find any banned or dangerous substances."
"See if they need help downstairs. I'm interrogating this health abuser."
"What do you do now that no one smokes and everyone has had the fat sucked out of them?" The reference to fat purges is lost on Zack; he has never suffered from obesity.
"Work in a tofu processing plant."
The posse pounds up the stairs from the basement and the woman diverts her attention to them. "Find anything downstairs?"
"There isn't any food stored in the basement," one of the inspectors reports.
"I guess that does it." The woman fiddles with her palm computer and a printout rolls out. She tears it off and drops it on the table beside the bowl of popcorn.
"What is that?"
"The law requires parents to feed their children nutritious food. That is a citation for feeding your child banned snacks."
"Banned snacks? … What is wrong with popcorn?"
"It is hard on gums and contains unnecessary carbohydrates. It was banned two years ago."
So that is why the popcorn was stuck up in the top shelf behind those containers. Zack picks up the citation to see if there is a fine. "Two thousand dollars!" He says in disbelief. "This is ridiculous."
The woman glares at him. "You are lucky that is the maximum fine I can give you. If it were up to me you would be incarcerated in a health re-education center for feeding a child banned snacks – especially before meals. And you put salt! on it. You don't deserve to be a parent!"
Zack is stunned into silence.
The woman glares at him for a second, to make sure he gets the insult. "Let's go," she orders, and leads her flock of cowed inspectors from his house.
The kitchen is in disarray; all the contents of the cupboards are piled on counter tops, except for the bigger pots and pans lying on the floor. Everything from the fridge is piled on a counter. I better put that stuff back in the freezer, Zack thinks.
But he ignores that thought and sits down at the table. Zack notices Ashley's empty plate. "You ate everything on your plate," he says to compliment her.
"I did. I ate it all Daddy." Ashley smiles proudly at the compliment.
"Help yourself to the popcorn."
Ashley smiles eagerly at the bowl, but she turns to him and her smile fades and is replaced by an expression of concern. "Will you get into trouble Daddy?"
"I promised you popcorn for dessert, so you can have popcorn. Pass the bowl over here. I think I'll have dessert, too."
While they finish the popcorn Zack tries to make small talk about school. Ashley is in grade one, and it is a lot different than preschool. But she is more interested in the popcorn, and eats one kernel at time, to extract the maximum flavor. Watching her almost makes the fine worthwhile.
Ashley reaches into the bowl, can't find any popcorn and tips the bowl to look inside. "The popcorn's all gone Daddy."
"Run your finger along the side of the bowl." Ashley looks at him and shakes her head. "It's okay, just this once. I won't tell your mother. Go ahead." Ashley gingerly runs a finger around the inside of the bowl. "Taste it."
She sticks her finger into her mouth. "Oooh, it's salty."
"Hand me your glass. I'll get you more juice." Zack pours a glass of juice while watching Ashley gather margarine and salt on her finger.
"Guess I better put all this stuff back." Zack is not sure what stuff goes in which cupboard.
"They left a big mess. Mommy's going to be mad."
"Not if I clean it up first." Zack starts by returning the frozen food to the freezer. When he has finished with the frozen food he stops to check on Ashley. She is putting unpopped kernels in her mouth and sucking on them for the flavor. "Are you finished Ashley?"
She points to her cheek and puffs it up like a cartoon chipmunk.
Zack can't help smiling. "If I draw you a bath can you bathe yourself?"
Ashley spits the kernels into a serviette. "Sure. I bathe myself every night." She brims with confidence. Zack wants to pick her up and hug her. But doesn't. "You are getting to be a big girl. Get your pajamas. I'll run your bath water."
Ashley gets up from the table and takes hold of his hand and walks beside him. "I like popcorn Daddy. Can we have it again?"
A few moments ago he had been elated watching her eat popcorn. Now he wonders if he had been wrong to give it to her, and wishes she would forget about it. "I don't know Pumpkin. That woman said it wasn't good for you."
"I don't like that woman. She's mean."
"Get your pajamas. It's getting late."
Fluffing up the pillow for the tenth time fails to make Zack comfortable. He glances at the bedside clock, it is after midnight. Worrying about Zoë prevents him from falling asleep. She hasn't called and none of her friends have heard from her. Nobody has seen her since she left work to go to a doctor's appointment. He fears the worst, but doesn't want to think it. His mind imagines an accident of some kind, and he tries to suppress his mental images of her in the back of an ambulance, in a hospital bed. Calling the hospital again is out of the question. Yet something about his call to the hospital nags at him, and he rolls over wishing he could speak to Zoë's doctor. Her absence from his bed is a phantom pain; he feels amputated and helpless.
Maybe she left me. Zack doesn't know where that thought came from, and he tries to dismiss it, but it gnaws at him and won't be dismissed. This is ridiculous. Our relationship is good; we aren't having any problems. I never noticed anything to indicate she was thinking of leaving me.
It would explain her friends saying they don't where she is; they know and they're covering for her.
No. That can't be right. Sure we have minor disagreements from time to time, but nothing serious. We get along better than most of the couples we know. We both love Ashley and couldn't stand to be without her. He sits bolt upright and feels the tension drain out of him. She wouldn't have left without Ashley. And Zoë would never leave Ashley locked out of the house for three hours, something must have happened to her. And he is right back to where he started: worried sick about Zoë.
This is pointless. I've got to get some sleep. In the morning I have to get Ashley ready for school before I go to work. Maybe I should take the day off. I'm going to. I have to be here when Ashley gets home from school, and I have to find Zoë.
But sleep evades him; every time he starts to fall asleep the bed becomes uncomfortable and he tosses and turns. At last he dozes fitfully or must have, because he is startled awake by the phone. Zack grabs it before it rings twice.
"Zack, listen. I can't talk for long."
Relief floods through Zack at the sound of Zoë's voice. She is alive and sounds normal.
"How is Ashley?"
"Fine. I made dinner and put her to bed. She was no problem." Zack thinks of telling Zoë about finding Ashley sitting on the steps, but a dozen questions he wants to ask run through his mind simultaneously. "Where are you?" comes out of his mouth first.
"Fraser Municipal Hospital. My doctor arrested me."
"What! They can't do that." Zack is shocked and outraged. They arrested my wife, and then lied to me about it.
"They can, and they did. I'm being held under what they call the Protective Health Custody Act. I've already had one liposuction operation, and I'm getting another operation in the morning."
"You're not fat."
"The doctor weighed me. He said I was more than five kilos' over the legal weight for my physiological parameters."
"I'm going to the hospital to get you."
"Don't come down here. They won't let you see me; I'm not allowed visitors."
"I am going to bring you home."
"Zack! I can't leave, and you could get arrested. You have to look after Ashley."
Zack knows she is right, and Ashley has been through enough already. "Domestic Health Inspectors raided our house and fined me 2,000 dollars for fe
eding Ashley popcorn."
"We can't afford 2,000 dollars. I should have thrown it out. It's my fault."
"It's not your fault. I called the hospital a couple of times to see if you were there, the receptionist said I was being a nuisance and threatened to call Health Security."
"Zack, I can't talk now – somebody is coming. They confiscated my cell phone. I snuck into the Nurse's Station to call you. Look after Ashley. I hope to be home in a day or two. Love you. Bye."
Rick Harztman, a salesman at the tofu factory, sits down across the cafeteria table from Zack. "You look shop worn. Any news about your wife?"
"No." Zack slices a forkful of tofu, losses interest in eating and drops his plastic fork into the recycled Styrofoam dish.
"How long has it been since you heard from her?"
"A week. I don't know where she is, and I am afraid to call the hospital."
"They wouldn't tell you anything."
Zack snorts derisively in affirmation.
"If you haven't heard from her for a week, she is probably remanded in a health education center."
Zack stares at his dish of tofu. "She was only five kilos overweight."
"You should be prepared for the possibility that she might not come home."
"Never!"
"I'm not saying your wife won't be allowed to come home – but I've heard of it."
"Why wouldn't they allow her to come home?" Zack can't believe this is happening.
“The government’s operating philosophy is that people are liable to become repeat health offenders if they are returned to the environment that caused a health offence.”
"How can they do that? Split up families."
The cafeteria is not busy at