“That was more than a joint,” Jazz says. “I put a little magic in there. A little—how you say—hibiscus?”
“What?” Darcy realizes. “What did we just smoke?”
Jazz reaches into the fish tank and grabs Fishy, the pregnant fish—Darcy’s favourite. “Watch,” he says.
“Don’t!” Darcy reaches. He sees his own hand. It’s meant for power and to punish and crush. Now it can only reach. He feels little. Jazz squeezes Fishy hard. Fishy explodes into a pink fleshy mist and hundreds of pink somethings are born through Jazz’s fingers.
“I’m a god,” Jazz says and roars with laughter. “I just made a million babies in my name. They were born through me and already sing my name.”
Darcy focuses on what’s left of the mother. Her mouth moves, gasping once. One of her eyes has pushed out sideways and is looking right at him.
“Jesus!” Darcy flushes and sinks into the couch. I will never tell anyone about this, especially Juliet. What would she say? What would she think of me? Juliet, where are you? he wonders. Help me!
“What you’re thinking about, D?” Jazz asks as he examines his dripping hand. Things are moving between his fingers. Baby fish. They either have tails or long fins. “Hey. They tickle.”
Darcy weaves. “When I get up—”
“What are you gonna do?” Jazz approaches him. “Here. Smell this.”
Jazz smears his fingers all over and inside Darcy’s nose and nostrils.
Darcy’s skull is filled with an ocean he’s only seen in pictures and on TV. It’s sweet and sour and his nostrils are moving. From the inside. Those babies—the living tissue of them—are inside his nose and crawling up!
Jazz scream-laughs in Darcy’s face as Darcy pinches his nose to snuff it out. It’s moving, wriggling, but he can’t even lift his arms. He’s stoned. Body stoned. And now sleepy. The baby fish are crawling up his nose, they’re inside his skull.
He realizes he’s crying, sobbing. Why can’t I move?
Jazz flips the fish tank over, and the other fish Darcy loves spill onto the carpet. Jazz starts jumping up and down on each one as it tries to wriggle away. “Juliet was mine!” he screams. “She was supposed to be all mine!”
God, Darcy prays. Get me out of here!
Larry Sole has wings but only he can see them. Wait. That’s not true. Maybe Juliet can see them when she catches me watching her, he thinks. She watches me, too. I can feel it. She must know that I am the Ambassador of Love. I am a soldier of passion. He is out past the highway, standing quietly in the middle of a dog team. Huskies. Some of them are half wolf. All of them are sleeping. He’s slipped through them all. He’s learned to put his spirit into the back pocket of his jeans so no one or nothing can sense him. Jed told him about how the Slavey used to be able to do this before battle and he’s doing it now. What is the new kid Johnny doing right now? he wonders. What is Juliet up to tonight? Or Darcy and Jazz—I wonder who’s the most dangerous of them all? The husky to his right stirs and quiets. When will Jed come home? There was a trapper who came by an hour ago but it wasn’t Jed. Jed’s Tundra doesn’t have a rifle rack. Mom’s studying. I’ll make her bannock when I go home. That always cheers her up. Oh, but then she’ll see my tattoo.
Larry had spent the afternoon drawing a love spell on his right hand: for Juliet Hope.
She will fall in love with me tonight, he thinks. She will. Even from this distance, this distance between us. It’s shrinking. I know you can feel it, Juliet. With invisible ink and a raven feather, I have created love medicine for us. I have a triangle on my palm to show the three emotions you feel when you find love: faith, hope and attraction. There’s a leaf with roots underneath the triangle because it represents growth, and I drew two hearts with a line joining them and that’s a star above the triangle because it represents beauty. There’s three throwing stars to defend us because this town loves to tear happy couples apart. There’s a peace sign because we should feel peace when we’re in love and there’s a box coloured in because love is like winning Black Out Bingo when it’s shared. There’s a boomerang so our love will always come back stronger, and I drew a heart alone so if anyone tries to take Juliet away from me it won’t work for them, and I drew an infinity circle and an amethyst to capture the light of the world and even the northern lights, and I drew a baby raven to honour the feather of this spell because I heard ravens can grow to be a hundred years old so our love will last a hundred years easy. Even if Juliet can’t see my hand, I know she can feel it. Juliet, when you and I kiss, the night will explode into fire and angels. Even if I never have the chance to make love to you, I will always praise you. I will always adore you. I will always cherish you in everything I do from this moment on. You are the reason I was born. Where God’s hands never went, I can reach that place for you. They say love is a thunder and I feel it in my everything for you. My love for you is so loud that it’s practically bubonic. I raise my fist and swear it.
And that’s when the huskies wake up.
The Strongest Blood
That first August after Joey and Leo had graduated from PWS High School, Leo’s father, Isadore, took the boys out grouse hunting with a .410 outside of Wood Buffalo National Park—23 kilometers from Fort Simmer in the Northwest Territories of Canada. Leo knew that his mother, Dora, wanted him and his cousin Joey to attend Aurora College, and that today was the day his dad was supposed to lobby both young men to attend the college in September.
“Dad, I’m 17. I don’t want to be a social worker or get into office administration,” Leo shivered as he and Joey walked alongside his father’s truck. Both Leo and Joey were tired and cold. Leo’d forgotten his long johns. Joey was even colder. With his low-rider gangster pants, everyone could see Joey’s gonch. Isadore had insisted on leaving the house by seven to get the most grouse and chickens, and now they could hear Joey’s teeth chatter. Joey agreed. “I don’t want to operate heavy equipment and I’m not into nursing or being a teacher. We want to make money.”
“We want our own trucks,” Leo said.
Isadore slowed the truck and rolled down his window. Both boys turned to see what he saw. “Wallow pit,” Isadore said and pointed with his chin.
Leo pretended to be interested. He’d already walked by a few this morning when hunting for grouse, and the pits were all pretty rank. The wood bison would urinate on a spot and then roll around in it. Part of this, Leo knew, was to get all musky as this was prime mating season for the bison, and the other part was to get dusty enough to keep the bugs away.
Joey had wrinkled his nose when he first caught the scent and actually dry heaved. “Whoah! Get your stink on, or what!” he yelled.
“Shhhh,” Leo scolded him, trying to act all serious, but then burst out laughing. “We gotta be quiet, you.”
Joey plugged his nose and waved his hand in front of his face. “Ever rank, hey?”
Leo looked around. He could see tufts of bison hair in the rose bushes. Fresh droppings and hoofed tracks were everywhere. Maybe today was the day Joey got to see the bison up close. Leo’s parents brought Joey down from Wha Ti because now that the diamond mines were in full swing in the north, his parents were drinking far more than Joey needed to be around, Dora said. “There!” Joey said and fired on a grouse.
Leo looked. It was a headshot. Joey went to retrieve his target. “Supper!”
Leo looked back to Isadore, who was sitting in the truck, and smiled. The fall colours were upon the leaves of the birch, so the forest behind Isadore was yellow and orange. Leo stopped and took in the visual splendor of the bush. Isadore flashed his lights and waved. Leo wished he’d remembered to take a camera because this was something he never wanted to forget. Even though he was cold, the sun was rising, and the air was sweet as the frost left the grass, leaves and trees.
Leo was surprised at what a great shot Joey was. Isadore wanted the boys to compete to se
e who could line up more grouse with one shot, but Leo could only do that with ptarmigan. As far as Leo saw, grouse travelled alone, while the ptarmigan packed up in the winter.
“Anyhow,” Isadore said as the boys got back into the truck, “your mom wants you to get an education. You know that.”
“We do,” Leo held his hands over the hot air vent, “and we will, but right now we need to make money, and I want to learn Dogrib.”
His dad nodded as he thought about it. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s cruise.”
The truck picked up speed and they made their way towards the Park.
Ever since Fort Simmer hosted a sun dance four years in a row, Dene culture had come back with a force: there were now tea dances, drum dances, Hand games, singing groups and storytelling nights at the museum that all packed in the people. It was like the town had been in hiding from its own inheritances as Aboriginal people and northerners living side by side. Someone had even spray-painted, “It is time to learn from the Red Man—IDLE NO MORE!” on the water tower in huge black letters that could be seen from the bank and drugstore.
Leo watched his dad. It was no secret that Isadore was a champion card player and had won Benny the Bank’s house in a poker game one night. He’d never gone to collect, but the story spread like wildfire as Benny was one of the most dangerous men in the north. It was a good thing that he was in jail.
What did Mom always say? he sighed. This town is so full of the wrong kind of heroes.
Leo closed his eyes and wondered what his graduating class was up to. What were Larry, Johnny, Juliet, Kevin, Darcy and Jazz the Jackal up to?
Leo had had a dream one night of holding a leash that held a two-headed black bear. It was powerful. Both heads swung and bit the air in front of them and he realized as he woke up that the leash was sinew made from flesh and human hair. It was slick with gut slime.
“Oooh,” he said as he shivered. He turned his hands into fists and stretched. He had to warm up. Why did everyone he grew up with know what they wanted to do with their lives while he didn’t? The streakers: Grant, Brutus, Clarence. They were finding their way in the world one night run at a time. How did they discover their trails in the night? What drove them?
Leo shook his head. This world and his future was a mystery. He just didn’t know what he wanted to do or be.
They were driving slowly over a hill when Isadore drew his breath in fast and stopped his truck.
“What, Dad?” Leo asked.
Isadore nodded and pointed quickly with his lips.
“Whoah,” Joey said in a whisper.
Down the hill walked a herd of six bison cows led by a strong bull. Leo watched in awe at how the bull trotted, easily handling its bulky body, with a hump that must have been six feet high. The bull’s thick head was black but the rest of the body was brown. The herd’s breath rose together.
Walking towards them was another younger bull with eight cows. The junior bull was smaller than the older bull. Both stopped when they got close enough.
“Get out of the truck quietly.” Isadore pulled out a pair of binoculars from the glove box. “Don’t slam your doors.”
Leo and Joey did as they were told. Joey was out first, and he put his hands over his brow to block out the rising sun. Leo did the same.
Isadore motioned for the boys to hunch down so the bison would not see or smell them. Leo crouched and Joey knelt. Leo squinted and took a good hard look at the older bull whose beard and chaps were fuller. Thick black horns shone in the sun and the older bull stood perfectly still as he waited for the younger one to come closer.
The younger bull walked with a raised head towards his elder and his cows stopped before he did. It was almost as if they knew what was going to happen before anyone else, including the men. Three ravens flew from the west and perched themselves on the tallest spruce across the highway. Leo shook his head at them. If they were here, he thought, this would get serious.
The older bull looked back once to the lead cow in his harem and motioned towards the bush to the left. The lead cow did as she was told and walked off with the five other cows and they stood quietly together.
The younger bull did the same. His cows walked off to his right.
“Wolves,” Isadore whispered. “Look at their tails.”
Leo saw the tails on two of the cows belonging to the older bull. They looked like extension cords without their natural hide. Wolves had chased two of the cows and had yanked so hard on their tails with their teeth that they’d pulled off their fur and skin. No wonder, Leo thought, the cows did not walk with yearlings. The wolves must have taken them all. Leo imagined the older bull goring the wolves with his horns or kicking them with his powerful hooves.
Leo suddenly wished his mom was there with them so she could see this, but she’d not been feeling well and had told them to leave her behind.
The last time they’d all gone for a family cruise, they passed by a bull with only a snub for a tail. “Look at that!” Leo had said as he sat up in the backseat.
The snub of the bull’s tail had looked like a little black finger wriggling around. “Oh, how he must suffer with the bugs,” Dora had said.
“Get ready, boys,” Isadore said, and Leo could hear the excitement in his voice. Leo looked to his dad. Isadore was so happy that, for a second, he seemed young again. Strong. He looked to Joey who squinted out of habit whenever he got excited. Leo looked at Joey’s braces, and when he saw his cousin’s smile and shining eyes, he was suddenly filled with so much love for Joey his blood warmed in his back and shoulders.
The two bulls stood like gods on four legs opposing each other. They lowered their heads at the same time, their beards brushing the frost. The bulls started pawing the earth. The younger bull let out a jet of piss and the older raised his massive head quickly to catch its scent.
“Who’s the toughest, Leo?” Joey asked out loud. “The one with more experience or the youngest?”
“Sometimes the biggest isn’t the toughest,” Leo said, eyeing the smaller bull.
“It’s the strongest who’s gonna win this,” Isadore answered and both bulls charged, raising their heads and slamming them together. It took a split second before the sound hit as a solid, “Ca rack!”
The sound was so loud one of the ravens jumped up and soared before landing again on a spruce bough directly above the battleground. The other two ravens followed and the spruce boughs swayed as they landed on them.
The bulls pushed against each other and, at first, no bull gave ground, but soon the older bull fell backwards. Leo was surprised to see tufts of fur rise and float in the air.
“Ho-la,” Joey said.
“Fur, no less,” Leo said.
All of the cows watched quietly, patient and still. Only their rising breath or a tail flip gave away their perfect stillness.
The bulls stopped and backed up. They were going to charge again.
“Twenty bones on the young one,” Joey said and started rubbing his hands together. “How about whoever loses buys lunch.”
“Shhh,” Leo said.
“Deal,” Isadore said, and Leo looked at both Joey and his father. They were smiling. Because of his father’s twisted fingers, Isadore couldn’t shake hands properly, but it was understood: the bet was solid. Leo shook his head, grinned, and went back to staring at the bison.
The bulls started off the same as before, rising like rams before a head butt, but this time the older bull swung his head low and to the right under the younger one, digging his left horn under the younger bull’s right leg. The younger bull had not anticipated this, overshot his mark, and was now off balance. The older bull lifted the top half of the younger’s body off the ground and began digging his horn into the other’s nerve bed, shredding tendons and ligaments in the pit of the leg. The men heard the younger bull cry out in a wail, a man’s voic
e, and Leo winced, imagining the gristle popping, and then it was over.
“Hooked ’im,” Isadore said.
The older bull dropped the younger bull, but when the younger bull landed on his front hooves, his left hoof would not work. It froze like a horse’s wooden leg on a carousel.
“Holy shit!” Joey said.
“Did you see that?” Leo asked stupidly.
Isadore was silent and watched the scene though the binoculars.
The older bull had pushed the younger one off the road into the ditch with his horns and now the younger one could only hop on three legs to maintain his balance.
“Paralyzed him,” Isadore said.
Leo looked at his dad and suddenly felt sick. He looked at Joey who had his mouth open. Leo suddenly felt very cold. “Just like that?”
Isadore nodded. “Just like that.”
The older bull looked at his harem and nodded. All six cows moved together. They walked as one, a herd of muscle and power past the younger bull who hopped in the ditch, alone. The younger bull tried to hop his way back on the road but couldn’t.
The older bull and his cows passed the younger bull’s eight cows and, without a motion that Leo could see, the younger bull’s cows joined the tail end of the older bull’s harem.
“Fourteen cows,” Joey yelled. “Fourteen cows! Not bad for a morning’s work, eh?”
The junior bull stood still, stood shivering, breathing heavily, its tongue hanging out of its mouth, while the older bull walked away with fourteen cows behind him.
Leo looked at the ravens. One was watching him, Leo thought, with human eyes. The ravens spread their wings and dropped down closer, jumping to the spruce boughs below, getting closer to the bull.
“The old bull played weak, hey?” Isadore said. “I used to do that.”
“What?” Leo asked.
“When I used to play cards, I played weak if I had pocket aces or a full house.” He looked to his son. “Sometimes you gotta play weak to get what you want.”
Night Moves Page 3