“Hunh,” Leo said and nodded.
“What’ll happen now?” Joey asked.
“Wolves,” Isadore said.
Leo nodded. “Want to go home and get your .30/30?”
Leo saw Isadore and Joey both look at the .410 Joey had beside him. “No. We’re in the park. The wolves will get him.”
“That’s it?” Leo asked as he took one last look at the lone bull with its dead leg.
“That’s it,” his father answered. “Let’s go for lunch. Joey’s buying.”
“Wha!” Joey said. “I’m seventeen and buying lunch? Cheap!”
“Deal’s a deal,” Isadore said, and winked at Leo.
Leo looked back at the trees. The raven that had been watching him was now sharpening its beak on a branch.
Fort Simmer, his dad often told him, was a place of survival and miracles. Anything can happen anytime. The outlaws, Torchy and Sfen, were on the run. He used to fear them. They burned down thirty homes months ago and the town was now starting to rebuild. His dad had thought he’d seen one of them—probably Torchy—scurrying across the highway one night coming home, but maybe it was a wolverine.
He thought of the young bull, in the ditch, all alone. This would be his last day alive, as soon, the wolves would come.
Leo promised himself that when he got back to town, he’d ask his mother for tobacco. They would pray together for the grouse, the buffalo, and the wolves. Then they would talk about his future.
I Double Dogrib Dare You
I keep waking up holding things.
I haven’t told anyone. But I do.
One time it was a shell-casing recently fired; another time it was a butterfly wing the colour of rust.
Brutus and Clarence don’t know, and tonight I sit with the one I secretly call “Holy Woman.”
“Witch,” a woman hissed at her as she walked by.
“Skinny ass,” another said.
I winced.
Valentina’s hair would feel like feathers in the dark.
The DJ had somehow managed to overheat the system so the music wasn’t on, but the lights were off and the candlelight on the tables made everything glow. Gunner and his troglodytes were giving me the stink eye from across the room, and I was scared. Really scared. Our court date was set. I bet I could let Country, the bouncer, know about the restraining order if I had to, but that would mean passing Gunner’s table and that would expose my legs. Would they do it here? I bet they would: to teach Fort Smith a lesson.
“So what will you do now?” I asked. She looked down and this was my chance to study her. There was that foxlike nose. There was that naturally feathered hair. All these years and she hadn’t changed. In fact, she looked younger. Her dress was gorgeous. She was so fancy. You could tell the dress was from anywhere but here. She was elegance. She was grace. And she hadn’t aged in any of the pictures I’d found of her in the Catholic diocese archives going back eighty years.
“I’m not sure,” she looked away. “Sell the house.”
Whoah. Talk about the end of an era. If anyone other than her or her family owned that house all by itself down the highway, that’d be the end of so many great memories. Valentina was a foster child who’d lost both her foster mom and dad this past year. She came home for both funerals and I was out of town both times. Brutus and Clarence said she stole the show with her beauty, but she never cried. Both funerals, they said, and she never cried.
“What about you?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “The boss’s sick. He needs help.”
She took a sip of water. “So you’re doing what again?”
“He got the contract to install water barrels around town, but he’s sick. His heart…”
“Rain barrels?”
“Yeah. Everyone’s worried about the water in the Slave, so the town figures we could trust the rainwater for our gardens.”
“Wow, so you’re doing that and driving the elders around?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I guess I’m the only one around here without a criminal record and a class 5.” I paused. “Wah!”
She smiled. “Do you love it?”
“I do,” I nodded. “I seriously do.”
“But I read in the paper you got charged?”
She read the papers? “Yeah. Gunner over there—don’t look—was stealing from the elders and I caught him.”
“So why are you being charged?”
I decide to go for it. “I held him down and got the elders to call the cops. He says I assaulted him, but I have twelve elders now who’ll come to the JP with me and testify that Gunner’s been stealing meat from them from the community hunts.”
She shot Gunner a dirty look. “You’re kidding me.”
“Nope,” I said. “He’s been taking the back straps, ribs, thighs. Even moose-nose and the Bible. He’s been robbing them all for years but everyone’s been too scared to talk.”
She looked his way. “I’m so sad to hear this.”
I remembered holding him down. It was only luck that I got him. I kept pushing his head and neck into the corner of the room while calling for help. “This is your last chance,” he kept saying. “Grant, let me go.”
But I knew if I did he’d half kill me.
So I couldn’t.
I just kept kneeling on him and twisting his neck back and he couldn’t move. He kept trying to flip me but I buried my palms into his face and neck so that I had razor burn on my palms for days.
I caught Valentina reading me so I blurted, “Yeah,” I said. “But I love what I do. The elders here have a long memory.” I watched her eyes on this one. I was testing her.
“Yup…” She looked away and I studied her lips. I made out with her a few times when we were in our teens and the Purple Cow movie theatre was up and running, and we had the Bowling Alley. I never forgot how her bottom lip shivered when I kissed her, how she poured herself into me with her heat each time. She once told me she loved that scar I have inside my lower lip. It’s a bumpy ridge I still trace when I’m thinking or start to get tired. I got it from a rock fight with Torchy and Sfen when we were kids and it’s actually a blessing. Women love it for all the right reasons. It’s like a second tongue.
“That was a great reunion, hey?” I said.
“Shari did a great job.”
“Twenty years…”
“I know.”
“Twenty years,” I said, “and some things don’t change.” Again, I was testing her. My Grandpa, before he died, warned me about her. He said when he was a boy, she was here. Even in his nineties he warned me to watch out for her, that she was half spirit. She came to us as an orphan, he said, and the men she married all died young. He showed me a picture of my Grandma taken in 1921 on Treaty Day and Valentina was standing behind her looking left. She was still the same. Young. Beautiful. But it was something he said, in his own words, that I never forgot: “She sings the snow.”
I didn’t know what he meant. He said a lot of things before he passed, but that’s the one I think about most now.
“You’ve got some new moves,” she smiled. “Want to dance when they get going?”
“Sure,” I said. I got the JP to show me how he and his wife two-stepped so good, and he made me put on a pair of wool socks at his house. He and his wife pushed all their furniture to the wall and, in four minutes, they had me dosey-doeing around their living room like nothin’. Holy cow! “So what are you up to now?”
“I’m not sure.”
“There was supposed to be a party at the Towers.”
“I know. The rain makes everything cheap.”
“Oh, now, it’s just drizzle. What about you?”
She sighed. “I leave first thing but I’m not tired.”
“Oh?” I got the tinglies. Maybe this was a sign. “So earl
y?”
“I know.”
Clarence told me if a woman plays with her hair when she’s talking to you that means she wants you. He also said we point our belly buttons to those we trust. He learned that on CSI. Majorly sad, Valentina was doing neither. “So how come you have to leave?”
“Ah, it’s silly.”
“Well, how come you have to leave, you? You should just stay. We’re going to the Park tomorrow. Maybe we’ll do the snake ceremony and the Bison Creep.”
“The what?”
I decided to just go for it. “Those were the ceremonies I used to do in your name.”
“Holy,” she turned and was facing me. “Tell me more.”
“Ho ho! Got your interest now, hey? Well seeing as how you’re all cheap and taking off, I might as well confess my night moves to you.”
“I have to hear this.”
“I’ll tell you, but you have to tell me who’s waiting for you down south.”
“Ah!” she laughed. “Look at you. On the keemooch, hey?”
“Well, maybe I’m not so sneaky after all.”
“It’s not a He, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s a She.”
“Oh?”
“Ho ho! Look at you. You wish I loved women.”
“No, I…”
“It’s for my girl.”
I sat up. “You have a daughter? I never—”
“No. It’s for my car.”
“You’re leaving for your car?”
“Do not ever buy a convertible.”
“How come?”
“Because if you bust the back window, they have to sew it back in.”
“Hunh. And they have to do it tomorrow?”
“Yup. Tomorrow. I have to meet them at the shop in Edmonton.”
“How cheap. You’re not even gonna see what I used to do for you.”
“Well just tell me.”
“Wait. How did you break the back window?”
“It’s a long story.”
“A long story, she says. Maybe your legs were just high, I guess!”
She laughed a throaty laugh and her head went straight back. It was a laugh so beautiful and loud. But it was manly in a way. Manly in a good and sexy way.
She looked directly at me. “So tell me about these ceremonies held in my honour.”
I took a big breath. “Which one do you want to hear?”
“The snake.”
I nodded. “Okay, so you know how I used to be in Senior Naturalists?”
“You were?”
“Yeah, it was the best. We had so many field trips. So we used to do this thing when we wanted someone, we used to sneak away from the camp and we used to go into the caves.”
“Oh they stink,” she wrinkled her nose.
“Like hot apple juice,” I said, registering it was eerie the way that she knew.
“Go on,” she said. Maybe she caught me thinking. Maybe she could sense thoughts.
“Well, we had this ceremony where we would chant the name of the one we wanted and we would roll up our sleeves. You had to do this when the snakes were mating. There were hundreds of them all balled up.”
“Eee!” she said and wiggled. I could see the little girl in her the way she laughed, the little girl my grandpa saw.
“So you had to roll up your sleeve and put your hand through a ball of rolling snakes. If you could go all the way in without getting peed on, that meant she’d fall in love with you.”
“And you said my name the whole time?”
I nodded. “Three times.” I could still remember all those snake eyes watching me. It was weird. In the dreams I had for a month after, I was back in the cave on one knee with my arm wrapped in snakes. All those garter snakes were hissing and asking me, “Areyousureareyousureareyousure?” as something stood and walked closer behind me. I got scared and shivered.
“What?”
“Oh I got scared just now. I got the heebees.”
“Ah you. Tell me the other ceremony.”
“Oh. The Buffalo Creep.” I started to get cold and wished I had my jacket. It was at the coat check, past Gunner. This wasn’t so fun anymore.
“Come on. Don’t hold back. This could be your lucky night.”
With that, we both started laughing. Out of shock. Out of delight. Out of lonely. I’d love to hold her tonight. Those hips. Those long legs. I wanted her to smother me with her body and warm my soul.
“Hello?” She snapped her fingers. “Tell me the ceremony. Sing it to me.”
I looked at her. “Sing it to you?” Maybe my grandpa was right. Some spirits free you only if you sing to them. “Well,” I said. “We also used to go to the Bison Creep on the fourth of July.”
“I remember that. Only boys were allowed to go.”
I nodded. Yup. This was when Uncle Raymond was bringing back the Indian Way to town. He wanted everyone to learn Cree, Dene, or Slavey. He invited all the non-Native kids and their families to learn, too. We had four awesome summers of Back to the Land trips, and we even had Winter Camp, where families of all backgrounds got to work together living a traditional life. Clarence has pictures and keeps saying he’ll make copies. My favourite picture is me, Brutus and him with our cowlicks and big horse teeth smiling away as we hold up the rabbits we caught in our snares. At the same time—it was funny—I didn’t want him to make copies. I loved that I had to go to his house and bug him to dig it out and show it to me. Brutus liked it, too. I could tell. His eyes would shine when he remembered us as kids with all that life ahead of us.
“How come you guys lived so far out of town?”
“It was my dad,” she said. “He didn’t like people.”
Hmm. I thought. Or maybe he was protecting Smith from you.
She looked at me and her eyes flashed.
I panicked and spoke quick. “Last time I seen you… you were with Greg.” I knew her husband before he passed.
“And you were with what’s her name—Lisa?”
I winced. The Bog Monster. Lisa. I aged forty years just remembering her name. “Yup. We’ve come a long way, hey?”
“Yup.”
“So you wanna know something magic?” I asked.
“What?”
“Years ago. I’m talking years. I was at the dump.”
“Mm. Hmm.”
“I found a diary.”
“Oh?”
“Yup. It was half on fire. I saved it.”
“Was it mine?”
“No. It was Justin’s.”
“No way.”
“Yeah.”
“Who would have burnt it?”
“Maybe his mom?”
“Maybe. It was on fire.”
“Take it easy. How do you know it was his?”
“He signed his entries. It was his handwriting.”
“Yes, but how do you know it was his?”
“We were in school together for every year until grade nine.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. He had a few letters he’d sent to you when you went out.”
“What?”
“Yeah.”
“What did you do with them?”
“I burnt them. Sorry.”
“Did you read them?”
Why lie to a spirit? “Actually… yes. I won’t lie.”
“Oh God.”
“No. They were sweet.”
“Mine or his?”
“Both.”
“What grade was this?”
“They were actually when you were both in university.”
“Oh yeah. The long distance. That must have been ’93?”
“Maybe.”
“Okay, so what did you see?”
“I j
ust saw a lot of love and respect and hope.”
“Yeah. I had a lot of hope for us.”
“I miss him.”
“Everyone says that, but did you ever really know him?”
“I know that he liked to streak.”
“Yes. He did like to streak. But did you ever sit down with him or share time with him?”
“… No… I guess not.”
“Do you remember him ever making eye contact with you?”
“… No …”
“Yes. That was Justin. A ghost to his own life.”
I wanted to touch her hand. “Sorry. I don’t mean to bring this up to hurt you. I just wanted to come clean.”
“Oh now. There’s worse things. I wish you would have saved those letters. I would have liked to read them again.”
“Well I did save something.”
“You did?”
“Yup. The thing is I got robbed a while ago.” This town was getting bad for break-ins.
“No way.”
“Yeah way.”
“Where were you?”
“House party. It was cheap. I crashed out at this party and when I woke up my glasses and wallet were gone.”
“Were you drinking?”
“No. That’s the thing. I just fell asleep and whoever it was came into my room.”
“Oh that’s creepy.”
“I know. It really got to me.”
“So what did you lose?”
“It was an excerpt from a letter to you.”
“A poem? He was always writing me poems.”
“Yeah. Kind of. It was more like he was thanking you.”
“Me? For what?”
“For a summer he’d never forget.”
“Ha ha! You’re kidding.”
“No. I’m not.”
She looked concerned. “Did he make any specific references?”
“Well, not exactly. He said thank you for not judging him. He wrote, ‘Take me back to the place where there are no words’ over and over.”
“Oh. OH! I know what he’s talking about.”
She looked away. She was blushing.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“You’re blushing.”
“So?”
“So what was the thing he was thanking you for?”
Night Moves Page 4