Reserved For Murder

by Kevin Hopkins

  ‘That’s gotta take a lot of wood,’ Millar said, envisioning the size of pit required to fit half a moose.

  ‘That’s for sure. People have been chopping wood for the last week or so,’ Grant said. ‘Once they have all the coals in the pit, they wrap the moose in damp burlap. Several men lower the moose into the pit and bury it with the dirt they removed when they were digging the pit. Once it’s buried, they keep a fresh layer of coals over top of the pit while the moose cooks.’

  ‘How long’s it take to cook?’ Millar asked.

  ‘About twelve to sixteen hours. It’s not a quick process, but boy is it good,’ Grant said. ‘You guys really chose a good weekend to come for a visit.’

  ‘Seems like it,’ Penner agreed. ‘This has been such a cool experience. It definitely won’t be the last time I come for a visit.’

  ‘I hope not,’ said the Chief from behind her, giving her a start.

  ‘You really have to stop sneaking up on me like that,’ Penner said. ‘I don’t know how someone your size can be so quiet when they walk.’

  ‘Lots of time in the woods tracking animals,’ explained the Chief. ‘If you walk with a heavy foot, you’ll starve to death.’

  ‘He’s not always that quiet,’ Sooleawa chimed in. ‘Especially when he’s coming home late from one of his meetings. Or his card games.’

  ‘Cute,’ the Chief said. ‘Right, should we get started?’ he asked, standing behind his chair. Sooleawa stood up beside him.

  ‘Are we supposed to stand, too?’ Penner whispered to Grant.

  ‘Don’t think so,’ he whispered back, looking up at Sooleawa and the Chief. Neither looked back so he assumed they were okay sitting.

  The conversations in the crowd petered out as people noticed the Chief and his wife standing at the front of the hall.

  ‘Welcome!’ the Chief called out with his powerful voice over the quieted assembly. ‘Welcome to our friends, those from near and far who have joined us tonight to celebrate together. Welcome to our special guests that join us here from Ottawa. Welcome to our ancestors who look over us and help us live our lives on a daily basis.’ There was a cheer from the crowd of people when the Chief paused. ‘Thank you to the Creator for helping those who hunted the moose for us this evening. And for the moose for giving of himself. When we feast tonight, I ask that you remember those who cannot be here tonight, whether due to distance, illness or death.’ There was another cheer. ‘Now I know you didn’t come here to listen to me ramble on, so please, let’s eat and enjoy each other’s company!’

  With that, several young people rose from various tables around the room and walked over to where the food was waiting. In turn, each one filled a plate with food and brought it back to one of the Elders. They gave the Elder a kiss on the cheek and returned to their seats.

  ‘Wow, don’t see that all the time,’ Penner said, thinking of her own family gatherings where it seemed to be every one for themselves. Instead of saying ‘let’s eat’, the host might as well just say ‘save yourselves’.

  Another set of young people, slightly older than the last, got up and went to the food table. Again, in an orderly fashion, they each filled plates with food and brought them to all the women sitting around the room. Each of the women held the youth by their cheeks and gave them a kiss on the forehead.

  Millar watched in amazement as the youths returned to their seats, sitting down quietly—still no food in front of them. ‘I’m in shock,’ he said to Grant.

  ‘There is so much respect for Elders in their culture. It’s something that’s taught from a very young age,’ Grant said. ‘Youth are taught that they should help take care of the Elders in the community, whether they’re related or not. Everyone’s part of the same community, and a community should look after one another.’

  ‘That’s a good lesson that everyone should learn,’ Millar said as a dozen men stood up and walked to the side table, each grabbing a plate, filling it with moose meat and vegetables. They walked up to the head table, each standing before one of the people seated at the table. Millar looked down the line of people holding plates. He recognized Barry standing in front of the Chief and Travis standing in front of Sooleawa. All at once, at some unheard cue, the plates were put down on the table. ‘Meegwetch,’ Millar said to the man standing in front of him. He smiled and gave a little nod before turning and returning to his table.

  This time the men didn’t sit back down. They stood in place as all of the young people in the room and the remaining men stood up. Everyone moved towards the food, getting in line. It was as though everyone knew their place. At the front were the youngest girls, each with an older girl behind them to help get their food. Once all the girls had their plates full, the youngest boys grabbed a plate, with an older boy helping them. Finally, the men grabbed their plates, taking their food and returning to the tables, sitting down.

  ‘It’s like a well-choreographed dance or something,’ Penner said to Sooleawa.

  ‘Everyone knows their role in the community and likes to help those who need it,’ she said with a smile. ‘We are very proud of the way people treat each other here.’

  The Chief stood up. ‘Brothers. Sisters. Family and friends. I invite you all to partake in this wonderful-smelling meal. Niwìdòpandimin. We eat together.’ With those words, the noise in the room started up again, everyone eating and talking. The Chief sat back down. ‘Please, enjoy,’ he said to the members at the head table.

  Millar looked down at the plate in front of him. There were several slices of roast moose meat, a moose meatball, a chunk of barbequed moose steak, roasted carrots, parsnips and potatoes. On the side was an ear of roasted corn, slathered in butter, and a piece of bannock. ‘Man, that’s a lot of food!’ he said, looking over at Penner.

  ‘But it is so good,’ she said. ‘You have got to try that roast moose. That has got to be some of the most tender, tasty meat I have ever eaten.’

  ‘Wait until you try the corn,’ Grant said, butter dribbling down his chin. ‘Not sure how this was cooked, but it has a real nice smoky taste. Almost like it was put right into a fire or something.’

  ‘It was roasted on the coals that cooked the moose in the fire pit,’ the Chief explained, overhearing their conversation. ‘No point in letting good embers go to waste. Easiest way to cook two hundred ears of corn.’

  ‘How can you afford to put on such a huge dinner? Doesn’t it cost a fortune?’ Penner asked, taking a bite of her meatball. She closed her eyes as she chewed and swallowed. ‘Okay, this may be my new favourite food!’

  ‘How can we afford not to put on such a dinner,’ the Chief countered. ‘We don’t have a lot here on the reserve, and there isn’t much for the youth to do. If we want to keep people happy and build that sense of community, we have to put on events like this. Cost wise, it really isn’t that much. The Creator provided the moose. And, of course, the wood for the fire we used to cook it. Members of the community provided their time to help prepare the food. The only thing that cost us any money was the corn and other vegetables. We got these ones from three different farmers in the surrounding communities. The carrots, parsnips and potatoes are all considered “ugly vegetables”.’

  ‘What are “ugly vegetables”?’ Penner asked, looking at her plate.

  ‘That’s when a carrot or parsnip isn’t quite straight, or a potato has too many nooks and crannies. It’s produce that the grocery stores won’t buy because it doesn’t look pretty. Usually, the farmer would keep some of these for his own use, but the rest would just get plowed into the ground,’ the Chief said, shaking his head. ‘Imagine. We live in a world where people can’t get enough nutritious food, or sometimes any food at all, and we’re destroying almost forty percent of all that’s grown because it doesn’t look perfect.’

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ Millar said. ‘How does that make any sense at all?’

  ‘Now, that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it,’ the Chief said. ‘Works well for u
s, though. The farmers are willing to sell us the produce for a fraction of its normal cost, because at least they’re getting something. In exchange, we get nutritious food. And it’s another bond we can build with the outside community. If you look over there, fourth table from the wall,’ he said, pointing in the direction of a table where a white man in a plaid shirt, a woman and two blonde kids were sitting with a family from the reserve. ‘That’s one of the farmers and his family. Until we started buying from them, they had never been to the reserve. Their farm’s only five minutes down the road and their family has lived there for three generations. Now, their children come and play with our children a couple of times a month.’

  ‘So, this type of gathering is building bonds within the reserve and with the communities around it, too,’ Penner said, spearing a parsnip on her plate and popping it in her mouth. ‘Man. Ugly or not, that’s one sweet parsnip.’

  ‘Good, right?’ the Chief said. ‘So, you see, hosting this type of event is really important. Important for us as a people and a community. Important for the businesses around us and important for the local families, too. Hopefully, each year, we’ll have more and more local families come out and enjoy the event. There’s still a lot of uncertainty about different cultures and races in the world. Anything we can do to alleviate that, even just a little, we’re going to try.’

  ‘Well, I can tell you that I’m going to be here next year,’ Penner said, finishing her moose meat with a flourish of her fork. ‘Damn, I’d be here every weekend if you had food like this!’

  The Chief laughed, almost choking on his food. ‘I can’t guarantee a moose feast every weekend, but you’re always welcome as our guest.’

  ‘Meegwetch,’ Penner said. A buzzing sound caught her attention. She looked over at Millar.

  ‘Sorry, I thought I turned this thing off,’ Millar said, taking his phone out of his jacket pocket. Before turning it off, he looked at the number. ‘It’s the Captain,’ he said to Penner.

  ‘You should probably answer it,’ said Penner. ‘Don’t need to get on his bad side as soon as you’re back at work.’

  ‘That’d be kind of rude, don’t you think,’ Millar said, trying to keep his voice down.

  ‘More rude not to answer when your boss calls,’ Sooleawa said, smiling. ‘Answer the phone—there’s a room just behind you, if you want to hear better.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Millar, standing up and pushing his chair back. ‘Sorry about this.’ Excusing himself from the table, he walked into the room Sooleawa pointed out, answering the phone as he went.

  Penner looked at his plate, spearing his last piece of meat with her fork. ‘No point in letting this get cold.’

  ***

  When Millar returned to the table, the youths were picking up all the empty plates, clearing off the tables. He sat back down and looked at his plate, then over at Penner. ‘Really?’

  ‘What?’ Penner said, trying not to smirk.

  ‘Well, I hope you enjoyed it at least,’ Millar said, popping the last potato in his mouth.

  ‘That I did,’ Penner said, reaching over and grabbing his last parsnip. ‘So, what did the Captain have to say?’

  ‘Well,’ Millar started. ‘Oh, thanks so much,’ he said to a young girl who picked up his empty plate. ‘So, McGee had a chance to look at the two documents we sent over.’

  Grant and the Chief leaned in a bit closer so they could hear better. ‘And?’ Grant asked as his plate was taken away.

  ‘As far as he can tell, the two documents were not written by the same person,’ Millar said, keeping his voice low. He didn’t want anyone else overhearing. He figured he would let the Chief decide how and when to tell the community.

  ‘Well, that’s not good,’ the Chief said.

  Sooleawa looked between him and Millar. ‘What’s going on? What documents?’

  ‘Looks like Jonny Two Bears may not have killed himself after all,’ the Chief said.

  ‘What do you mean? I thought you said he was found hanged?’ Sooleawa asked with concern.

  ‘He was, but it looks like his suicide note was written by someone else,’ Millar said.

  ‘Is it possible his report was written by someone else and he actually wrote the note?’ Penner suggested.

  ‘Don’t think so. Didn’t Barry say Jonny’s mom knew right away the note wasn’t his handwriting?’ Millar said. ‘She said the book report was written by him, so I think we can safely say that was a good sample.’

  ‘Alright,’ the Chief said with a sigh. ‘Let’s keep this quiet for now. I’d like to meet with the three of you later, if we can. We’ll get Barry there, too. See what our next step is going to be.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ Grant said. ‘I’ll let Barry know. Should we meet at the police station or the band office?’

  ‘Let’s meet at the band office. There’s more room there,’ the Chief said. ‘They should be bringing out the dessert shortly. Let’s eat that, then meet up in about, say, forty-five minutes? I’ve got to mingle for a bit before I can leave.’

  ‘There’s dessert, too?’ Penner said, her eyes growing large. ‘If you say there’s going to be coffee as well, you may end up with a new resident after all.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ‘Make yourselves comfortable,’ Barry said, unlocking the front door of the band office and turning on the lights. Millar and Penner wandered in and sat on a couple of tattered chairs. ‘Sorry,’ Barry glanced over to where they were sitting, ‘Those are probably not the most comfortable chairs. Travis put in an order for some new furniture, but it hasn’t arrived yet.’

  ‘They’re not too bad,’ Penner said, shifting around, trying to get comfortable. ‘I’ve sat in worse.’

  ‘Barry, did you leave the note and report in here, or did you bring them back to the station?’ Grant asked, opting to stand.

  ‘They’re at the station. I locked them in my top drawer,’ Barry said. ‘The note was either going to be evidence, or Jonny’s Mom was going to want it, so I figured I should make sure it was kept safe. Why?’

  ‘I just figured the Chief may want to see them when he gets here,’ Grant said, looking at his watch. ‘He’ll be a few minutes yet. Mind passing me your keys? I’ll go grab them real quick.’

  ‘Catch,’ Barry said, tossing his ring of keys over to Grant. They bounced off of his left hand, falling to the floor. ‘Nice one.’

  ‘I lost them in the light,’ Grant said, bending over to pick them up. ‘Plus, it wasn’t a very good throw.’

  ‘That’s right, blame the other guy,’ Barry said. ‘Anyone want a coffee? Not sure how long this meeting’s going to go.’

  Penner perked up, but waited to see if anyone else would say anything first.

  ‘I don’t know if I need one,’ Grant said, winking at Millar.

  ‘Yeah, it’s getting kinda late,’ said Millar. ‘Don’t know if I could sleep tonight if I had another coffee.’

  Penner looked at Grant, then at Millar. They both tried hard to keep a straight face. ‘You both suck,’ she said as they started to chuckle. ‘Barry, I would love a coffee. Tweedle dum and Tweedle dumber here can go without.’

  ‘I’ll put some on,’ Barry said. He went into the kitchen and started filling the coffee machine with water.

  ‘I’ll go grab those papers,’ Grant said, heading for the door. ‘Be back in a minute.’

  Penner glared at Millar.

  ‘What?’ Millar said, still laughing.

  ‘You’re a jerk,’ Penner replied. ‘You sure you want to come back to work? Maybe you should take some more time off. You know, another fifteen years, or so—just ‘til I’m ready to retire.’

  ‘You would miss me way too much,’ Millar said. ‘Couldn’t do that to you. Imagine how boring your career would be if you only had to work with people like Grant all the time.’

  ‘Sometimes I think I could get used to that real quick,’ Penner said, throwing a cushion at Millar, hitting him in the head.

 
‘Just what I needed. Thanks,’ he said, putting the cushion behind his back and stretching out. ‘Much more comfortable.’

  ‘You really are a piece of work,’ Penner said. Hearing the door handle turn, she looked over to the main door to the office.

  ‘Somebody here?’ Travis said, poking his head around the partially opened door. Chewie ran inside, yapping to announce his arrival. ‘Oh, Detectives. What are you doing here?’

  ‘Hey, Travis,’ Penner greeted him. ‘The Chief wanted to have a word with a few of us. We’re just waiting for him to show up. Hi, Chewie,’ she said, scratching the dog enthusiastically behind its ear.

  ‘I was just passing by on my way back from the feast and I saw the light on,’ Travis said. ‘Figured either I left it on or we was getting robbed.’

  ‘Sorry about that, Travis,’ said Barry, coming out of the kitchen. ‘I wanted to let you know we were going to be here, but I couldn’t find you at the feast before I left.’

  ‘Must have been in the washroom,’ Travis said. ‘Or out back having a pipe. I don’t like to smoke it around the little ones, if I can help it. They don’t need to see that.’

  ‘Got some coffee on the go. Want one for the road?’ Barry asked, heading back into the kitchen.

  ‘Nah, that’s good thanks,’ Travis said. ‘Just make sure you lock up when you’re done. Ya’ll have a good night. Let’s go, Chewie.’ He patted his leg as he called his dog over.

  ‘Will do,’ Barry called out. ‘See ya in the morning.’

  Travis opened the door to walk back into the night air, almost bumping into the Chief. ‘Sorry about that, Chief. Almost got ya.’

  ‘Travis? What are you doing here?’ the Chief asked. ‘You know, doesn’t matter. I actually need to talk to you for a minute, if you’ve got time.’ He looked into the room. ‘Give me five minutes, I’ll be right back.’

  ‘No problem,’ Penner said as Travis and the Chief left. ‘More coffee for us.’

  ‘You and your coffee,’ Millar said. ‘I’m sure if you ever donated blood, it would actually be black.’