<\/p>\n
Before she moved to Toronto, Enola told Kiara, in the Starbucks where they met on Danforth Avenue, near the Pape subway station, she worked for her uncle in his grocery store as a meat cutter. \u201cI love to cut red, juicy, bloody meat,\u201d Enola said. \u201cI love chopping through the bones and gristle, carving the meat, cutting pieces of tenderloin and sirloin, trimming the fat from the steaks, but the job didn\u2019t pay enough.\u201d<\/p>\n
Enola\u2019s mother was an Ojibway and French Canadian from the First Nations reserve of Lac Seul; her father was Italian-Ukrainian from the nearby town of Sioux Lookout in Northwestern Ontario. She said the only reason she was conceived was because her mother was an easy lay\u2014the only woman who would fuck her father, who didn\u2019t like to shave or shower or change and launder his clothes. When she made this revelation, shocking Kiara, she burst into her heckling laugh.<\/p>\n
She hunted big game, moose and whitetail deer. \u201cDo you know how it feels to gut and dress a big bull moose you just shot with a .303 rifle?\u201d<\/p>\n
Still, Enola said she wanted to pursue something with purpose and meaning in life, but she didn\u2019t think anyone would agree porn counted. Kiara also wanted to work in erotica and boudoir. She enjoyed sex more than anything, but she hadn\u2019t slept around and didn\u2019t have a boyfriend. Neither expected or anticipated the time would arrive when sex on camera would provide them with a modest source of income, albeit a limited amount\u2014more a stipend or honorarium. They both answered the classified advertisement online with vague hopes and expectations.<\/p>\n
In their pursuit of an entr\u00e9e into the entertainment world, Kiara and Enola separately answered an online classified ad online by someone looking for a partner in creating short adult video clips. Konstantinos said in his ad he never shot video, although he was an experienced amateur photographer. When they showed up for the interview, the two young women stared at each other: Konstantinos\u2019 face looked burned severely, but the scars didn\u2019t bother them. In fact, Kiara thought his disfigurement explained things. His disfigurement made him more authentic, real. She remembered seeing a few individuals with similar facial disfigurement, begging on the streets of Delhi and Mumbai, when she visited her homeland of India with her parents. In fact, the scarring caused Kiara to look more deeply into his eyes; she wished to impress him with her belief beauty was more than skin deep and that the mind mattered more.<\/p>\n
Making no pretension to being a professional, Konstantinos said he was a novice, a beginner. He was looking for models or actors who, like him, never shot porn to create short point of view videos\u2014novices and beginners, who could possibly use the video clips for their portfolio or resumes, to land an audition or find an agent.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou never shot video?\u201d Enola demanded.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf you like, we\u2019ll learn\u2014stumble through this\u2014together. I said as much in the classified ad.\u201d<\/p>\n
Konstantinos sought two partners, so it appeared they had a meeting of mind and bodies. Enola and Kiara were both intrigued with the prospect of creating videos that attracted clicks and views on the Internet. More comfortable with two actors, so he didn\u2019t have to worry about he-said-she-said situations, he said he wanted to create a comfort zone for him and the models.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re trying to cover your ass,\u201d Enola said, \u201cbut what happens if we decide to gang up on you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not ganging up against anyone,\u201d Kiara said.<\/p>\n
Afterwards, Enola said Konstantinos didn\u2019t want to admit he was into threesomes, which she enjoyed. Enola and Kiara were apparently the only amateur models or actors who answered the ad, but he expressed satisfaction with them. Their compact curvaceous bodies and long dark hair, he said, reminded him of the porn stars Remy Lacroix and Riley Reid.<\/p>\n
\u201cRemy retired and had a baby,\u201d Enola interjected.<\/p>\n
Konstantinos explained he suffered facial disfigurement from a work-related injury. He was a welder on an oil pipeline near Fort McMurray when an explosion and fiery blast occurred, seriously injuring him and disfiguring his face. A lawsuit filed by his lawyer was settled out of court, since the explosion occurred due to negligence and shoddy industrial workplace practices. Not only was he awarded the usual compensation but he also received a settlement amounting to a few million dollars.<\/p>\n
If he hadn\u2019t been so upfront, Enola and Kiara agreed afterwards, neither would have followed through with the ad. His face would have been an eyesore to anyone else, but neither Enola nor Kiara found his disfigurement repulsive; in their early twenties, they liked to think they had open minds. They could adapt and adjust, and, besides, he had his Ironman wrestling mask. Enola thought he was in excellent physical condition, in his late forties or early fifties, with a lean, muscular body. He looked like a stud or a hunk, Enola said, as long as you didn\u2019t notice his face, a mass of healed burnt flesh, which plastic surgery barely corrected. Even his eyes, though, looked as if they were nearly glued shut by the injuries. Enola considered him their Elephant Man.<\/p>\n
Konstantinos said he was a virgin up until his injury. While he was still an outpatient in the burn unit of the hospital undergoing rehabilitation, he decided to visit a sex club, in Edmonton. Over forty years old, still a virgin, with severe facial disfiguration, he put his clothes in a club locker, wore the monogrammed towel around his waist, and went into the basement dungeon and grotto. He saw a bodacious woman\u2014couldn\u2019t resist her attractions\u2014allowed the towel to drop. The woman told him that if he put on a condom, she would have sex with him. He couldn\u2019t believe how easy it had been. Enola didn\u2019t think he understood that, while his face was literally an eyesore, he had an attractive body, particularly for someone middle-aged.<\/p>\n
After Kiara started telling her more about herself, Enola started calling her a poor little rich Asian girl, but Kiara retorted, \u201cI\u2019m East Indian. My parents are from Mumbai.\u201d<\/p>\n
They both ended up taking the same bus from Pape subway station, walking across Pape Avenue from each other when they got off the bus at Sammon near the hospital. She said he was too trusting, so indiscreet\u2014after she told that her father and mother were pharmacists who owned several pharmacies in the Toronto area.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour parents are a power couple, girlfriend!\u201d Kiara exclaimed.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, they\u2019re Hindu.\u201d<\/p>\n
Kiara\u2019s addiction to prescription pills, like Oxycontin and Adderall, forced her parents to commit accounting and inventory fraud to conceal her addiction and pill theft. The good news: Kiara had been clean and sober for the past eight months. Since she couldn\u2019t gain admission into the university of her choice, she decided she\u2019d pursue teenage fantasy.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe college of your choice? Why don\u2019t you just go to, like, any college.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy father wants me to go to University of Toronto.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s so special about U of T?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe wants me to go to pharmacy school.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow does a criminal get into pharmacy school?\u201d Enola demanded.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve never been arrested.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re right: you\u2019re not a criminal, you\u2019re an addict, an entitled bitch, even though it\u2019s the same thing.\u201d<\/p>\n
In no mood to argue, thinking silence the best approach. Kiara realized Enola could be worse than biting and caustic. They both liked to perform oral sex and hand jobs on camera, while Konstantinos wore a wrestling mask, an Ironman superhero mask. Meanwhile, he worried about being accused of exploiting them, taking advantage of them. While they performed on camera, he kept asking them if everything was okay. He didn\u2019t want them to perform if they were on drugs or had been drinking; as a Greek Orthodox Catholic, he had a guilty conscience about sex. He drove Enola nuts, constantly asking her if they were okay with the action, if they were comfortable, if they were certain they wanted to carry through with the action, if they needed a washroom break or wanted a snack or beverage. If they consented. He had an unusually large penis. When Enola told him she wanted him to have intercourse, he said that was not in the script, even though the action was strictly improvisational. He said the videos were about oral pleasure. Meanwhile, Enola and Kiara became friends of sorts. Enola said she could never understand why a young woman with her ethnic roots and background would become involved in such a disreputable venture. But like Enola, Kiara didn\u2019t consider the venture disreputable. They both even regarded the action as performance art, acting, modeling.<\/p>\n
They both wanted to become porn actors and liked their threesomes with Konstantinos, but the action followed a steady and predictable course, and became boring, partly because he didn\u2019t reciprocate, aside from stroking their hair, and caressing our heads, which was why Enola wanted to fuck. They pleasured him with their mouths and hands while they progressively stripped off their clothes until they were naked, arching their backs, displaying their breasts and buttocks for the cameras. They caressed, massaged, and stroked him with their hands and tongues.<\/p>\n
All the while he operated the camera, one on a tripod, one hand-held, which he kept focused on them. He said he was an avid amateur photographer ever since the photography club in high school. Did they not have a photography club in high school? If Kiara\u2019s Etobicoke high school had a photography club, she certainly never participated in its activities. Enola looked as mystified and bewildered at some of his questions. Enola came to call Kiara her girlfriend, although she thought that, even though Kiara was smart and came from an affluent background, when it came to men and relationships, she was clueless.
\n
\n
\nIn any event, Konstantinos became an even more avid and ardent photographer after the industrial workplace accident, the explosion that occurred while he was in the middle of welding the oil pipeline. The large out-of-court settlement he received allowed him to buy expensive photographic equipment and even build a studio in his garage. But he was far more interested in photojournalism and street photography. Whenever he partook in street photography, though, he found himself constantly stopped and questioned. Feeling harassed by the police and security guards, he realized the stops and questions were probably due to the facial disfigurement, since he had done precisely the same sort of photography in the same places without any interruption previously\u2014before his injury.<\/p>\n
The part that surprised Enola and Kiara was the money. Both entered this arrangement with Konstantinos based on the premise they were in for the fun, volunteers, up-and-comers, struggling to break into some niche of the adult video and erotic movie making and Internet. They wanted to be artists and performers, so when he offered them each cash at the end of the night, they felt awkward but finally no compunction about accepting his money. They walked from his house and waited at the intersection near Centennial College\u2019s East York campus, for the Pape bus. When they got tired of waiting for the bus, they walked down the street to Pape subway station in Greektown. She asked him why she wasn\u2019t working in the family business, learning the trade, studying to become a pharmacist. He told her the truth, when he should have prevaricated and admitted nothing: he didn\u2019t get along with his father, who wanted her to have an arranged marriage to a university educated husband of high caste from her home village in Mumbai in India. Her father thought she should be in graduate school studying for her PhD while working as a research scientist, earning several hundred thousand dollars a year, in a research and development lab at one of the big pharmaceutical companies in the United States. She also revealed that she only recently overcame her addiction to Adderall and Oxycontin.<\/p>\n
Meanwhile, Enola started to complain she could not see the videos of them with their \u201cIronman\u201d cameraman on the Internet. She checked the adult video sharing websites but could find no videos of their m\u00e9nage \u00e0 trois. When she went to the third shooting the following Saturday, she asked Konstantinos why no videos of them had been posted. He admitted he hadn\u2019t posted any videos of them because he wasn\u2019t confident that they were ready.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy would we do this on camera if we weren\u2019t ready?\u201d Enola demanded.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat about your futures?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat about our futures?\u201d asked Enola, in an argumentative tone.<\/p>\n
\u201cAren\u2019t you worried these kinds of videos might affect your future prospects if they were posted publicly?\u201d<\/p>\n
Enola started to shout and argue. \u201cNo. Absolutely not. We\u2019re wearing eye masks, for Christ\u2019s sake, and I\u2019m really not worried about my future night now. I\u2019ve no intention of running for political office. I want to be a porn star, not an Etobicoke city councilor, like this bitch,\u201d she said, gesturing towards Kiara.<\/p>\n
Konstantinos shrugged. He nurtured serious reservations about posting their videos online or uploading them to a popular porn website, despite the fact Enola and Kiara both wore lace Venetian eye masks and reassured him they wanted to break into the porn industry.<\/p>\n
As they walked to Pape subway station Saturday night, Enola asked her what she intended to do with the money she earned. She said the other hundred and fifty dollars she earned that night would be enough for a cheap computer tablet or an e-book reader.<\/p>\n
\u201cA hundred and fifty dollars? You earned a hundred and fifty bucks every time?\u201d<\/p>\n
Her brow contorted; Enola seemed genuinely puzzled. \u201cWell, yeah.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s what he gives you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIsn\u2019t that what he pays you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, of course.\u201d Enraged, Enola visibly trembled and shook with anger, but Kiara didn\u2019t then think she was upset about money about video shoots.<\/p>\n
The following Saturday night it rained. While she insisted on leaving early, heading to the warmth and dryness of home in Etobicoke, Enola decided to walk back to Konstantinos\u2019s house and ask if she could stay overnight at his place. He said she could stay in the guest bedroom. She told him she intended to ask what he did with the data cards on which he stored the videos of our performances. He put them in a filing cabinet, he said, which she noticed he locked with a key on a silver keychain slung to his trousers and wallet. After he went to sleep, Enola crept into his bedroom. Still angry over the fact he paid Kiara fifty dollars more, she took the keys from his cargo pants, where he had the ring tethered to a belt loop. She crept from his bedroom and shuffled her feet to his home office and opened the filing cabinet. He had a filing cabinet full of camera equipment, including eternal hard drives.<\/p>\n
Then she took the keys, which she found in the filing cabinet, and went to the closet and opened the fireproof boxes. The fireproof boxes were full of cash. She helped herself to a bundle, which she slipped into a compartment of her handbag and went to sleep. When Enola and Kiara returned the following Saturday, Konstantinos, not his usual self, seemed upset about something. He invited them inside his house after they waited for several minutes. He said, after some consideration, he thought they shot their last video.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with Konstantinos?\u201d Kiara asked. \u201cI think he just fired us.\u201d She figured he noticed the theft, which totally changed his appraisal of using them as models for his video making.<\/p>\n \u201cAnyway, he can\u2019t fire us; it was a partnership, a relationship, a m\u00e9nage \u00e0 trois.\u201d Enola decided to take her for coffee at a Starbucks caf\u00e9 on the Danforth. \u201cYes,\u201d I said. \u201cDidn\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n Enola said she had to admit, she did. \u201cHe could really turn me on. I only wished we could have mated. Didn\u2019t you feel that way? He could have fucked us both; he didn\u2019t have problem getting hard, even though it took a while, but once he got hard, he stayed that way and didn\u2019t come for a long time. I think the videos would have been better if we fucked.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah,\u201d Kiara said absently.<\/p>\n \u201cI think I even loved him. He was like a father.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cExcept we had oral sex with him,\u201d Kiara said, \u201cand he videotaped it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI think his sex club story was bullshit. I mean, I believe him, she was hot and had sex with him, but probably only because she felt sorry for him. It was a charity fuck.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cActually, he didn\u2019t say they fucked. He said she was hot, good looking, and they had sex.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSame thing. Are you trying to argue with me? If you are, Kiara, I could just stab you with this.\u201d Enola clenched the butter knife she used to spread salmon cream cheese on her bagel. As they locked eyes, Kiara grew wide-eyed and fearful of her. Enola finished her Starbucks latte, but they passed Pape subway station and they walked back down Danforth Avenue.<\/p>\n \u201cLet\u2019s go back to his place. I\u2019m worried about him.\u201d<\/p>\n Kiara ended up following Enola back down Pape and Coxwell Avenue to his house, even though she thought she should return to her safe house in Etobicoke. Enola rapped and knocked on the door gently. Then, observing the door was unlocked, Enola slipped inside the brick house.<\/p>\n \u201cAre you sure this is a good idea?\u201d Kiara asked.<\/p>\n \u201cJust keep quiet,\u201d she said. Enola crept down the hallway and tried to orient herself in the darkness of the kitchen. She grabbed a sharp boning knife from a drawer of utensils.<\/p>\n \u201cEnola, what are you doing?\u201d Kiara asked.<\/p>\n \u201cKeep quiet,\u201d Enola whispered.<\/p>\n Konstantinos walked in on Enola while she went into his office, as she searched for a key to the filing cabinet and the locked fireproof box. Apprehensive, Kiara lingered in the dark hallway near the back door. Clenching the grip of a baseball bat at his side, Konstantinos walked in on Enola. Enola figured because of the darkness he didn\u2019t recognize her because he threatened to call the police. Then Enola lunged through the darkness of the home office and stabbed him, in the neck. Kiara went hysterical when Kiara saw the blood. From the other room, Enola said, \u201cThere\u2019s your beloved sugar daddy.\u201d When Kiara saw Konstantinos appearing lifeless, Kiara broke down altogether.<\/p>\n \u201cKiara, hold it together. Get your shit together and stop crying. He was ready to attack me.\u201d<\/p>\n Enola somehow managed to momentarily convince her she acted in self-defense. She frightened Kiara and her act of violence managed to persuade her to stay in the guest bedroom overnight. In the late morning, she stripped off his clothes and dragged his naked body into the kitchen while Kiara sobbed and wept.<\/p>\n \u201cGet your shit together, Kiara. Stay calm. We\u2019re in the mess together.\u201d \u201cKiara, we did society a service\u2014getting rid of a pervert.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow can you say that about him? He was a nice man. He never did anything bad to anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe made pornographic videos.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe asked our permission and we acted willingly.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe made pornos, Kiara, disgusting, perverted pornos.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut it was soft core, and we wanted to be in the videos. And we\u2019re adults\u2014age of majority.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAre you, like, trying to be his lawyer? Cause, if you are\u2014\u201d She waved a bloody knife at Kiara, who broke down again, wailing uncontrollably. \u201cKiara, get your shit together. I need to get you through this. Don\u2019t keep up this crying jag. In fact, keep it up, and I\u2019ll lose my temper, and you\u2019ll be next,\u201d she said, pointing the blade pointedly.<\/p>\n Kiara bit the cuff of her wrist through the hem of her pullover, trying to stifle her own sobbing. After Enola looked around the house thoroughly, she said they needed to clean the house from ceiling to basement and required plenty of bleach. She took Kiara on the subway train to the Walmart at the Scarborough Town Centre. In the Walmart, Kiara looked distressed, fearing she would break into sobs and start crying spontaneously. Enola whispered Walmart had security cameras everywhere. She warned her to maintain her composure and a calm demeanor, or she would have to stab her in the heart. With her heckling laugh, sotte voce, Enola said, at this rate their plans for world domination and breaking into the porn business would be destroyed.<\/p>\n Enola had a shopping cart and a list on Konstantinos\u2019 index cards. As she checked down the list in the brightly lit superstore aisles, she loaded the shopping cart with two backpacks, two pairs of hiking boots, bottles of bleach, and plastic garbage bags, which she paid for with Konstantinos\u2019 cash. In a stall of the restrooms, with their plastic shopping bags doubled, they put the bottles of bleach into their backpacks. When they arrived back at Konstantinos\u2019s house, Enola said they couldn\u2019t leave the house until the cleaning chores were complete. They used bleach and buckets of water and cleaned once, twice, and thrice.<\/p>\n Then, at night, they made the first of a series of trips to the foot of Leslie Street and hikes through Tommy Thompson Park. They rode the streetcar along Queen Street East to the intersection and hikes to the foot of Leslie Street. Then they walked around the barriers to the gravel road that snaked along the manmade point.<\/p>\n The tip of Leslie Street was the Vicki Keith Point, named after a marathon swimmer, Enola said. \u201cWe should remember to call it that \u2013 she\u2019s a hero. Imagine swimming across Lake Ontario. How tired and sore would you feel? She even hallucinated while she was swimming. Come on, Kiara, be inspired. Get your shit together. You\u2019re going to make it. I need you to show some courage so we can get through this mess.\u201d<\/p>\n Near the nesting and breeding ground of thousands of cormorants and seagulls, they disposed of Konstantinos\u2019 frozen body parts. Enola thought his remains didn\u2019t stand a chance against so many seagulls and cormorants. Before she tore through the black plastic, Enola said the ravens would pick at the garbage bags and then the other birds would join the posse scavenging his remains.<\/p>\n \u201cWhen I worked as a meat cutter for my uncle\u2019s grocery store, I used to love to make runs in my uncle\u2019s pickup truck to the dump and watch the bears and eagles and vultures rip apart the spoiled meat the butcher told me to throw away before the big boss, my uncle, saw.\u201d<\/p>\n When Kiara sobbed and cried, Enola snapped and slapped her with the palms and back of her hands. \u201cWhat is your problem? Were you in love with this guy?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe didn\u2019t deserve to die,\u201d Kiara sobbed.<\/p>\n \u201cI acted in self-defense, Kiara. Get your shit together, or I\u2019m going to slap you around like you\u2019re my bitch and I\u2019m your pimp.\u201d<\/p>\n They disposed of the last of his remains, part of his left leg, including his foot, his penis and testicles, frozen hard as a rock, wrapped in black plastic garbage bags. They made three trips over two days. By the end of the second day the seagulls, cormorants, ravens, and even hawks seemed to have eaten and picked apart the wrapped human remains they discarded in the lagoon, but they couldn\u2019t be certain because of the dark and shredded pieces of black plastic garbage seemed scattered everywhere.<\/p>\n \u201cI used to take hikes down this road, snaking along Leslie Street Spit, trying to figure out what was wrong with my life\u2014what direction I was heading. The only discovery I made: this manmade park is probably a good spot to kill someone and dump their body.\u201d<\/p>\n Kiara cringed and shivered as they walked along the dirt road on a point made from the landfill of skyscrapers in the financial district. Then Enola insisted that Kiara accompany her back to the house for one final meeting. Kiara broke into sobbing, broken by gasps and exclamations, again. Enola clenched Kiara\u2019s shoulders and insisted Kiara tell her what the matter was. Caught in the clutches of Enola, Kiara felt too afraid to say she feared she would maim or kill her. Enola tried to reassure her she didn\u2019t need to worry; however, if she didn\u2019t keep her mouth shut, she would have to come back, hunt her down, and kill her. Enola threatened to inform Kiara\u2019s parents.<\/p>\n \u201cThat would be a disgrace, wouldn\u2019t it? Your parents would have to send you to a nunnery? Or I guess Taj Mahal would be the East Indian equivalent, wouldn\u2019t it? Or you\u2019d help the homeless with Mother Theresa on the streets of Calcutta.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEnola, shut up!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, I forgot. Mother Theresa died.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTrying to provoke me? You want to get into a knife fight?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo. I don\u2019t want to fight. Please leave me alone.\u201d<\/p>\n Enola gave her some cash, even though Kiara insisted she didn\u2019t want any of Konstantinos\u2019 money. She offered her his Ironman wrestling mask and the lacey eye masks, but Kiara merely put the costumery aside. Enola took his external hard drives and data cards with the videos and pictures from their video shoots together and put them into her backpack. The evidence was in the videos he filmed, Enola said. <\/p>\n \u201cIf you say anything, I\u2019ll tell your parents what you did on camera with a dirty old man. Do I need to make myself any clearer?\u201d<\/p>\n Enola felt confident she needn\u2019t worry because Kiara was equally guilty and complicit. Besides, she concluded, self-defense was only natural and acceptable, since he exploited them.<\/p>\n Kiara became teary and cried again. \u201cHe was a kind and gentle man. He paid us.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSounds like he paid you more.\u201d<\/p>\n Enola started to rage, and Kiara\u2014who was intimidated, bullied, and frightened\u2014decided she was safest if she kept quiet. Enola said she was giving Kiara half the money he left in the house, so she shouldn\u2019t think she was ripping her off, which was the least of Kiara\u2019s concerns. Enola decided to take the hard drives to her own apartment for her own protection. The cash allowed Enola to rent a storage locker where she stored the external hard drives and data cards with the videos and images from their photoshoot and video sessions.<\/p>\n Then Enola decided to move to Vancouver. She rented an apartment and struggled to find work until she found a meat and poultry packing plant which hired her to work as an industrial butcher, based on the experience she possessed as a meat cutter and packer in her uncle\u2019s grocery store and the glowing references he gave her. When she started to have uncontrollable vomiting and nauseous from eviscerating chickens, she was forced to quit. Then she discovered she was pregnant from a one-night stand with a co-worker, after she worked overtime on the cleaning and evisceration processing line. Finally realizing the nausea and vomiting was from morning sickness, she tried to return to her job, but human resources said she lied on her job application form and refused to hire her back to the poultry plant. She took some pastry chef courses at a community college, which her employment insurance covered. Then she found work in an ethnic supermarket in Vancouver\u2019s Chinatown, cutting and packaging meat and poultry. Soon she felt empty and lonely. When she realized she had no friends and family in Vancouver, only acquaintances and one-night stands with co-workers, she moved back to Toronto to try to resume a normal life again. On Bloor Street West, Enola found the pharmacy, near Royal York subway station, where Kiara worked as pharmacy assistant for her parents, who flew to India for her grandfather\u2019s funeral. Enola walked down the narrow, crowded aisles to the back counter and asked for the prescription to be filled. Working behind the counter of the pharmacy, Kiara felt her heartbeat so rapidly she thought she would faint. She wrote on note paper, \u201cPlease go.\u201d She handed Enola the piece of paper, along with her prescription, sliding them across the counter, hoping she wouldn\u2019t make a scene.<\/p>\n \u201cBut I need this prescription filled.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPlease go.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI need these medications.\u201d<\/p>\n Whispering hoarsely, tearing up, Kiara pleaded with her former amateur co-star to leave her alone. Enola reassured her she wasn\u2019t trying to cause her any problems or trouble. \u201cI need the prescription for my medical condition.\u201d<\/p>\n Kiara filled the prescription, put the bottles of medication, along with some candies for dry mouth into a paper bag, stapled the bag, and asked her not to come back.<\/p>\n Enola went down the stairs and escalators onto the concrete platform of Royal York subway station. While she checked the prescription in the train, she realized Kiara had given her the entire batch of medication in one dispensation, all the refills for the antidepressants for nine months at once. When the negativity of her words and actions sank in, Enola figured now Kiara had more power over her. She took the energy drink and sipped from the tall narrow can of super caffeinated beverage while she downed as many fluoxetine capsules as her stomach would hold. Then she took the sublingual lorazepam tablets, which she was prescribed to take on an as-needed basis.<\/p>\n Enola ended up taking the subway train back and forth along the Bloor-Danforth line, from Kipling station in Etobicoke to Kennedy station in Scarborough. Then she somehow managed to board the subway train at Bloor station, on the Yonge-University line, which she rode back and forth in a stupor. Somehow, Enola ended up getting off the subway train at Union station. On the narrow, crowded subway platform, she got into a shoving match with a postal letter carrier. This might have been of little consequence if she didn\u2019t end up falling onto the tracks just as a subway train sped into the station and, despite the efforts of bicycle courier to rescue her, she was crushed. Then the debate began as to whether she was deliberately pushed or fell onto the tracks, a controversy which spilled over into the newspapers. This became a major story in the newspapers, the story of her life, the defining public moment in her life, the end\u2014 as Konstantinos\u2019 demise was eclipsed. A part-time worker, a journalism student at Ryerson University, who worked alongside Kiara, filling prescriptions, said it seemed unlikely Enola\u2019s demise would have received coverage from the daily city newspapers, if she committed suicide, without foul play, if it was a case of her deciding in her own conscious volition to end her own existence.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Two Charaters in Search of an Auteur Before she moved to Toronto, Enola told Kiara, in the Starbucks where they met on Danforth Avenue, near the Pape subway station, she worked for her uncle in his grocery store as a meat cutter. \u201cI love to cut red, juicy, bloody meat,\u201d Enola said. \u201cI love chopping through the bones and…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":3647,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[14],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-82","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/82","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=82"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/82\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4470,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/82\/revisions\/4470"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3647"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=82"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=82"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue25\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=82"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d Enola said.<\/span><\/p>\n
\n\u201cDid you enjoy making videos with Konstantinos?\u201d Enola asked.<\/span><\/p>\n
\n
\n
\nEnola told her to maintain her composure, lest somebody discover their coverup. Enola warned Kiara she didn\u2019t want her father and mother to become involved\u2014their precious reputations and pharmacies dragged into the ugly business, as she urged her to keep her shit together. She started cutting his body into pieces like she did when she worked in the meat department of her uncle\u2019s grocery store or gutting and cleaning a deer or moose her father or uncle had shot when she went hunting with her father in northwestern Ontario. She cut the body into pieces, separating his head and limbs from the torso, cutting the limbs at the joints, the knees and the ankles, the wrists and the elbows, and put the body parts, the hands, the feet, the lower legs, the upper legs and arms, into plastic bags, which she double wrapped. She sweated and grunted as she cut and sawed, while Kiara sporadically broke into tears, wiping the tears away from her face, with the hem of her pullover. Then she put the body parts into his freezer. Meanwhile, Kiara sobbed and cried, but was too afraid to leave.<\/p>\n
\n
\n
\nShe found no word of their benefactor, online, in newspaper reports, no missing posters plastered to utility poles and newspaper boxes. Konstantinos disappeared without anyone noticing. Their elephant man lived a low-key, low-profile life, despite his quiet, belated sexual liberation, and now apparently nobody noticed his absence. Ready to confess her sins, Enola went to the family physician she found at a walk-in clinic in downtown Toronto when she first moved to the city. The doctor, hen-pecked, hurried, told her hush and diagnosed her as depressed. She prescribed Enola antidepressants and thought she should have lab tests for sexually transmitted infections.<\/p>\n