“Thank you for letting me stay,” I said. “Sorry for mixing up the dates.”
She looked at me and I could see tears well up. “Oh now… I’m just glad we were here. Usually, this time of year we’re still down south, but you know… it’s actually great timing. I have to leave tomorrow.”
Sue was a good person. She had kind eyes. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s my dad. He’s not doing so well.” She looked in the direction of where Rob and Dean would be. “You go pick your room. There’s a key in every lock so once you pick your room, keep your key with you, okay?”
“Do you have the newspaper?” I asked.
She stopped. “Oh. Good question. I’m sure we do. It’s around here somewhere. I think we have it in our suite. I’ll leave it in the kitchen for you. Are you hungry?”
I shrugged.
“Well, why don’t you let Rob sort Dean out and help yourself when you head up,” Sue said. “Go pick out your room. You get first dibs. Oh. Can you keep an eye on our dog Duke? He’s really sick.”
“Sure.” I trust dogs. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s just not eating.”
“Was he poisoned?” I ask.
“What?” She looked at me. “No. Why would you say that?”
I shrugged. “Usually, when dogs are poisoned they don’t eat.”
She frowned. “Can you remind Rob to take Duke to the vet tomorrow? Our appointment’s at three.”
“Okay.”
She sighed. “Okay, I’m off to call my brother. Our suite is here and you can knock on our door anytime, okay?”
I nodded and went to find my room.
I looked in every room and decided on the one at the end of the hall to the right. It had a view of the field and I could sneak out if I wanted. It had its own private sink and mirror as well as a small study desk and closet. The bed was small but the room was perfect. It had a wall of cork board so you could put up posters and there were tacks of many colours just waiting to be put to work. I locked the door and started putting up my Bruce Lee posters and started unpacking my UFC and WWE DVDs. Would Rob cook for me? What if he wanted to eat with me and talk? I only ever ate with Ehtsi and Wendy and we always ate in silence.
I had a week to accomplish what I came here to do. This was my base and I knew the town a bit. I’d been here last year for my grade eleven but stayed in a basement apartment where they didn’t ask any questions. I could not tell Marvin I was back. He’d want to hang, but the principal was staying somewhere in town. I’d find him and he’d never walk again. I swore it to Wendy before I left. I went through the mental photos I’d taken of the residence and stored in glances: there were crosses in the hallways. Were they Catholic, Protestant, Anglican? No ashtrays. A few cigarette butts. This was a drug-free home. I counted a shoe rack capable of holding twenty pairs of shoes. There were photos along the hall of northern students who’d stayed in the residence for the past decade as they attended PWS. It looked like in winter they went on a caribou hunt. In the summer, they probably went to check nets and make dry fish. Everyone looked so happy. In each of the photos, there stood Sue and Rob beaming with pride. I wondered if they had kids of their own. I’d read the paper and find out about the trial and the lawyer’s arguments. Maybe the local paper would have different news from CBC and News/North—
Dean Meddows opened my door and threw his hockey bags on the floor. “Hey, ugly. Get out of my room.” Up close, he was way shorter than me. He still had his baby teeth. They were coated in plaque and they looked like yellow toenails.
How did he—? I’d locked that door. I knew I locked that door. He was serious.
“Are you deaf? Get out of my room.” He started looking around. “Nice belt,” he said and started looping it through the rungs in his jeans. It had been on my dresser right next to my tote bag. He then reached into my tote bag and pulled out my nunchucks, throwing stars and Ehtsi’s knife. “You a frickin’ psycho, or what? I’m keeping all of this or I’m telling on you.”
“Get out of here,” I said. He had small arms and that meant a small reach.
Dean scowled at me and tapped my belt. “What are you gonna do—fight me?”
I tucked my chin and dropped my hands to my sides, Bruce Lee style. He saw this. “I’m not asking you again. Get out of my room, harelip.”
I made two fists and stared at him. “Put everything back and get out of my room.”
He turned to me and smiled. “Oh good. Ugly wants to fight. I’m keeping the belt and weapons.”
I pretended to be scared by backing up. “Don’t—”
Dean put his little fists up and grinned. “I got two sledgehammers here and they’re called ‘Good’ and ‘Night.’”
I shook my head.
He scowled at me. “God, you’re ugly.”
I sized him up: I was taller and had a longer reach, and I bet I knew his trigger. “At least I’m no midget.”
He put everything down. Dean’s eyes bugged in his skull and he turned purple with anger. Bingo. With that he pulled his arm all the way back and started running towards me, telegraphing his move. I let him come, drinking in the air and savouring what was about to happen. I spun against the image of where I thought he’d be and, like a windmill, I back-fisted his temple—Crack!—with all I had. He crumpled to the ground. He smoked his forehead off of the floor. I winced at the sound. His back started shaking and he gave a few little kicks.
I watched to make sure he wasn’t faking. I pulled my belt off him. “I am ugly,” I thought and licked my top lip, “but I’ll always be taller than you.”
Blood flowed from his nose. His eyes rolled in his skull and he had spit down his face. He blinked and looked around. “Wha—?” He curled his wrists into him and looked around, blinking. “Holy… you… knocked me out…” I was quiet and watched him in case he wanted to fight again. He curled his hands into cups. He touched his nose with his thumb and looked around.
I couldn’t let him get up.
I rolled him so he was face down. I then straddled his back and pulled both of his arms up over my legs. “Hey. What?”
I then sat down on his back and heard the gristle in his back-strap snap, crackle and pop. He started wiggling with all of his might to get away, so I leaned back as I began wrenching on his jaw with my fingers braided under his throat. This way he couldn’t scream. I had him in the Camel Clutch. “Tell me about the boy who called Social Services on the principal.”
“NNNNggggh,” he grunted. His little hands were quivering he was in so much pain.
I lifted my weight off of him a bit so he could speak. “I won’t ask again.” I lowered my weight on his spine and heard sinew pop some more. I saw his hands turning purple. He started kicking and shaking terribly. “NNnnnggggh!!”
“Talk,” I said as I sat up a bit. I felt something warm seep down my fingers? Spit? I lifted myself up a bit so he could talk.
“Gerald,” he gasped. “Everyone knows it was Gerald.”
“Last name,” I sat back down and heard another pop in his lower back but eased up enough so he could talk.
“Spruce. You’re giving me the Camel Clutch?”
“Stay out of my way and live.” I hissed into his left ear. “Get in my way again and I’ll blind you.” I pushed him off of me and stood. Right away he turtled up and started grasping for breath. I glanced at my fingers. Blood from others can make you sick. It was tears. He’d been crying. I spun around and pulled him out of my room by my belt and his collar down the hallway. I reclaimed my belt. “You sucker-punched the wrong person,” he wheezed. “You wait and see.” I grabbed his legs and dragged him to the room farthest from mine. He didn’t resist. I grabbed his two stink hockey bags and dragged them out beside him before closing and locking my door. I repacked my weapons bag and continued setting up my room. What if this got me k
icked out of here? Ah. He’d never tell, the big coward.
Once I was all set up, I examined and retried my lock with my key. It locked, so how did Dean get into my room? Maybe I hadn’t locked it. I’d tell Rob. I had to fortify my room. I looked down the hall and Dean had chosen a room to the left. I paused and listened. It was quiet. I shook my head and made my way into the kitchen. Rob was sipping a coffee, looking out over the yard. The moon was out. It was about a third full. The last time I was here, I made a friend: Marvin. He’d talked me out of maiming the principal the first time; I should have never listened to him.
“You all set up?” Rob called.
I nodded. He looked nervous. His meeting with Dean must have been a disaster. My knuckle started to burn.
“See Dean?”
I eyed the coffee. It smelled great. I nodded.
“I’m not sure what to say about Dean but lock your doors and windows while he’s here. I’m working on getting him gone as soon as I can, okay?”
I looked at my fingers. “Do you change the locks here every year?”
“What’s that?”
“Someone can use their key from last year to get into my room.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that. Once the students are gone, they usually ask for the same room again. The last student who used that room came from Smith. He graduated.”
“I don’t trust my lock,” I said.
He was quiet. “Okay, well, maybe that can be one of your chores tomorrow. You can change your own lock with any of the others you wish. How does that sound?”
I nodded and stood there, unsure of what to do. Did he serve me coffee, or did I serve myself? That’s when I noticed he had an ice pack on his knee, under the table.
He turned the ice pack over and pointed with his lips towards the coffee maker. “Help yourself.”
I did. Lots of whitener, lots of sugar. Where was the paper? I had to read the paper to get the latest on the trial.
“I bet you’re hungry.”
I nodded. The back of my hand stung from striking Dean’s temple but I felt great, not even winded.
He got up and limped to the oven. There were beans and perogies. His knee. Why had Dean asked about his knee? Rob opened the stove door and there was a plate wrapped in tinfoil. His sleeves rolled up again and I saw that he was tattooed on both arms. His tattoos were faded but still looked cool—the face of Japanese demons. “Ketchup’s in the fridge.”
I was too shy to go get it. I didn’t want him watching me. I grabbed a fork and knife and sat at his side so we could look out the big window together. I pulled my hoodie up and started to eat.
“You were here last year, hey?” he asked. “How was the other residence?”
“Good,” I nodded and could feel him wanting to ask me more but I turned away from him. I wanted to eat but started to get shy again.
“So this year,” he said, “we’ll be looking for captains to help us lead the caribou hunt. Have you ever hunted caribou before?”
I shook my head. My drunk uncles kept saying they’d take me but they never did.
“Well, maybe this is your year to learn how,” he said and he said it so gently, like it was a wish that he held for me.
I looked at him. “That would be awesome.”
Rob stood slowly, keeping his weight off his knee. “I’ll leave you to your meal. Please wash your own dishes when you’re done, okay? I gotta go check on Duke.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Do you have the paper?”
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s by the phone.” He pointed to a table filled with books. “Bear, I’m glad you’re here. Sue’s dad is sick. Her brother’s been watching him but he’s got to get back to work. I’ll need help cutting wood and doing the grass. And changing your lock.”
I nodded. “We can’t forget to bring Duke in tomorrow at three.” I had a feeling someone poisoned him.
“Okay,” he said. “We’ll talk in the morning. Welcome to your new home.” He stopped and looked at me. “Is there a reason you showed up a week early?”
I had a feeling this was it: the moment that would decide if he’d let me stay, so I decided to tell the truth. Most of it. “I can’t go back,” I said suddenly, surprising myself.
“Where? Rae?”
I traced my finger over a scratch in the table. I decided to go for sympathy. “Our Grandma passed away last week.” And there it was: the truth. She was gone. All the promise and everything of our family. Dead with a nest of lies in her heart from my mouth. The lies I told her. I felt my ribs tighten with this. “Thank you for giving me a home. I can work hard.”
He nodded. “You are welcome. I’m sorry about your Grandma.”
I pulled my hoodie back so I could look down and not be watched. “I hope Sue’s dad is okay.”
“Me too,” he sighed. “Hey, we’ve got the TV set up with satellite downstairs. We’ve got a Playstation, Xbox 360, plenty of games, a small library. It’s all downstairs. The students sound-proofed it last year for that Dance Dance Revolution, so have a good night. We’ll have a nice breakfast tomorrow, okay? We have a week to get the residence ready for the students.”
I nodded as he left for his and Sue’s room. “I’ll help you,” I lied.
I pulled my hoodie back and ate everything on my plate. All the while, I listened for Dean. He better not be messing with my room. I downed a cup of coffee and I found some cookies. Raisin. My favourite. With fudge? Whoah. I ate them quick. They were ever sweet. I watched the golden moon in the sky, and I said a prayer for Wendy, for Sue and Rob, for Sue’s dad and their dog. I had made it. I had arrived to do what I had to do. It was August 22nd. The moon seemed closer than in Edzo or Behchoko or maybe even Yellowknife. She was beautiful.
I was now ready to read the paper. I moved to the table and sat down. There it was: front page. It was all true. The principal was going to get off because the methods used to retrieve the server on his hard drive were illegal. He had a lawyer who did all the talking in the article. There was a picture of the principal. It said his sentencing date would be on September 8th, the first day of school. There was no mention of Wendy. All it said was “allegations of indecent exposure.” There were no pictures or mention of his wife, who I would love to interrogate. But that was after Gerald. I had Gerald Spruce’s name and, with the phone book, I quickly had his number and his address. At the front of the NWT phone book, there’s a map of every community in the western arctic. I could see how I’d get to his house: go left facing the river, take a right on Ptarmigan, follow Loon Street until it becomes Slave River Narrows Avenue and then walk a ways to Sky Crescent. I’d start at the beginning and work my way up.
I tidied up, turned the coffee maker off, did dishes. There was no way I was going to blow this. As I walked back to my room, I passed by Dean’s door. I listened: no sound at all.
I knelt and checked my door lock. It looked fine. I gripped it and turned. It stuck. How did he get into my room?
I unlocked the door and listened after I closed it. Nothing. Still no movement from Dean. Everything looked exactly the same as I left it but I didn’t trust any of this. I hid my weapons bag under the bed—way at the back. I tucked only my Grandpa’s sheathed bone knife in the small of my back behind my belt and jeans. I wouldn’t need my nunchucks or modified throwing stars. I turned out the lights and jumped out of my window into the cool night of one of the last days of summer. I’d keep it unlocked so I could get back in later. Because we were north, it would get dark at around ten. I couldn’t wait. I had to meet the boy who called Social Services. As far as I could tell, he was an ally. He tried to protect Wendy. He’d taken the stand at the trial. I’d find out what happened and what went wrong.
I could not run into Marvin. Couldn’t. He’d try again to talk me out of what I had to do. I followed the map in my head and looked around. Fort Simmer was a p
retty town. I looked at the moon. “I miss you, Ehtsi.” I swallowed hard. “I miss you, Wendy.”
There was nobody out. A few dogs barked. There were some nice log houses. Everybody here, it seemed, mowed their lawns. I looked into windows: lots of TVs and computer screens. There was one house with a lot of trucks on the lawn. Through the living room window, I could see into the kitchen: a card game was in full effect. Everyone had hunting caps on, maybe to hide their eyes, and soon I was outside Gerald’s. His family had a nice log house with a large workshed out back. There were two trucks out front: a nice Ford and a beater, probably for the bush.
I could circle round and watch through the windows, but he was an ally. I had to remember he was an ally. I had to work fast and gather my own information. I took a big breath and looked up and, to my amazement, I saw a fleet of ten, eleven, twelve pelicans soaring miles above, like white hands blessing anything below. Not once did they flap their wings. They soared and veered together as one. I wondered what Wendy thought of them when she was here, and I wondered what they thought of her.
“Can I help you?” a voice called.
I folded my tobacco bag and looked up. Shoot! My hoodie had blocked my view. It was a man holding a chainsaw and a long file. He’d come out of the shed and must have seen me.
“Hi,” I said. “Is Gerald Spruce here?”
“Inside.” He waved and went back to work behind the house.
I nodded. He didn’t suspect a thing.
“Gerald!” he called.
“What?” a voice called from a back window.
“Company.”
“Who?”
“Looks like an Indian: skinny—straight nuts and ribs.”
“What?” two voices asked: one from the back window and one from the kitchen window. They must have been open with the screens on.
I could hear someone walking and I readied myself. I dropped my hoodie and used both hands to smooth over my hair.
A woman with an apron that read “Hot Stuff” and moccasins answered the door. “Hello.”
Night Moves Page 6