The room went quiet. Eli and Jay both stood on the edge of their toes—Eli's thighs burning from being ready to run for so long. The wave of realization passed through the partygoers after the initial shock. Debbie's face fell, Chad and James groaned, and though Darius laughed a little at the punch line, Mai soon jabbed at his side. Even Mark looked pissed—so pissed that he got to his feet.
That was their cue—Eli jumped up from where he stood, the red backpack on his shoulder, and Jay began to run, too.
"Nice meeting you all," Jay shouted as he leapt over the shoes by the front hall. "I'll pass your names on to tribal elders."
There was another swell of shouting, and music, before Jay slammed the door behind him. Eli laughed as his ran, the cool summer night choking him slightly. Jay was beside him, as fast as ever, a smile on his face.
"You think they're going to chase us?" Eli said when they had reached the corner close to the road. Jay paused, bending over his knees as he gulped up air like water.
"Nah, not really. But they're not going to be happy. Word will probably spread." In between gasps, Jay smiled. "You were a good sidekick."
"Sidekick?" Eli laughed. "I knew where you were headed from the beginning."
"All right. Partner in crime."
Eli's chest hurt—and he knew it wasn't from the running. "Partner," he said, nodding between breaths. "Okay. I like that."
Jay smiled as he stood up straight again. He glanced around, the sun now set and the only light the faint glow from the convenience store across the street and limited street lamps. They waited, hearing the small roar of insects and curses in the air. But there was no torch or angry mob after them. Jay eventually tilted his head towards the sidewalk in a signal to follow.
"Is that it? No more party?"
"Nah," Jay said, throwing an arm around Eli's shoulder. "I think tonight's been a pretty big adventure so far."
"So we're heading back?"
"To the bus stop, I think." Jay stopped when they got to the cross walk from before. This time, no one was around, so Jay pulled out a cigarette from his front pocket. He looked both ways, before cupping his hands against the wind and lighting up. "What do you say, Eli?"
"Sure."
Eli watched as the red hand turned to a white man silhouette for them to walk, only vaguely realizing the irony of the display. Even as he got further and further away from the party, his heart-rate still climbed. He didn't want the night to end so soon, especially when he finally felt as if he belonged.
*~*~*
Jay smoked a few more cigarettes on their way to the bus stop. The Greyhound station was halfway between Tim's mechanic shop and the house party. Eli spotted the silver dog Greyhound logo painted against the back wall of the waiting area, half-covered in graffiti and next to the map. While Jay smoked outside near the bus area, at least nine metres away from the building, the sign warned in bold red letters, Eli went inside the bus station to look around. There was a small family with two little kids on the only free bench inside the station, along with a couple men with canes. A homeless person tucked inside one of the chairs, his body turned against the blue dog and the coffee machine, but no one paid him much mind. Eli knew the rez wouldn't be on the map inside the bus stop, but the things around the rez would be. Tantoo had taught him how to find where they were by looking at nearby landmarks ages ago in case he ever got lost. Now, even as her teaching came back to him, he wasn't too sure if the buses even went that far north.
"I'll get some tickets," Jay said, appearing by Eli's shoulder. He glanced around the less than stellar waiting area. "Do you want to stay outside for now?"
"Do buses even go to the rez? I mean, how can we get that far?"
"We have legs, don't we?" Jay looked at the map, part of his face falling when he realized where the farthest stop out would be. He touched it on the map and shrugged. "Only half a kilometre away—not too bad. But don't worry too much, I have a plan."
Eli didn't move. Jay's hand moved from the map to Eli's shoulder and curled around to the hair bunched at Eli's neck. His eyes fixated on Eli: deep and pensive, but sincere.
"Do you trust me?" Jay asked. "I'll get you to where you want to go, okay?"
Eli nodded, still feeling small shocks on his skin from the touch.
"Good." Jay clapped his hands together. "After my storytelling skills, I certainly hope you trust me."
When Eli got outside, he took a seat on a blue bench. More buses rolled in from the station, and tall men in leather jackets—like the men they had nearly bumped into before—got off. Eli tried not to stare at them, but there was something about their hard, weather-beaten faces that reminded him of his own dad. What few photos he had, anyway. When one man with a scraggly beard caught him looking, Eli turned towards the sky. He was used to seeing more stars in the sky on the rez, but he could see some scattered along the night sky, even with the light pollution. Clouds shifted along the moonlight, covering up the three-quarter full phase, and then threatened Eli with a storm at his seat. Eli shifted his hands under his jacket, pulling it close, the mugginess and electricity on the air making him panic deep inside.
"Hey," Jay said, standing by him. He held two tickets in his hands, which he then folded into the pocket inside his jacket. "You mind if I hold onto these?"
Eli shook his head. "Do you want your bag?"
"Eventually." Jay sat down again. From his other pocket, he pulled out a cigarette and lit up. He blew smoke out of the side of his mouth, now completely ignoring the threatening sign in red letters that told him he needed to be farther back.
"You never smoke this much," Eli remarked. "I thought you had to sell the product?"
"Who else is gonna buy?" Jay ran a hand through his hair, his free one holding the cigarette, before he took another inhalation. He shifted on his feet and then sat on the edge of the bunch, his foot jangling. Eli's eyes wandered from the skyline to the men in leather jackets, who now walked over to both of them with a heavy swagger in their steps.
"Hey. Pass us some?"
Jay raised his eyes and examined the two men trivially. "Nah."
"No?"
"Nah." Jay waved his hands, brushing them away.
"Hey, we asked you nicely," the second man said, slightly taller than the other. Red skin marked under his eyes, as if he had worn sunglasses outdoors, then fallen asleep.
Jay rolled his eyes, running another hand through his hair. "There are like, four other guys you could ask who are smoking here. Why stop at me?"
"You looked the nicest."
"Take what's mine once…" Jay said, trailing off and turning away. He finished his one cigarette, then picked up another from inside his jacket and lit up. The stranger's hand came down, knocking away Jay's lighter before he could touch his cigarette to flame.
"Really?" Jay asked, more annoyed than angry. Eli felt the fear quicken in his stomach. He held Jay's bag tight in his fingers, wishing more than ever that he had grabbed the tickets from Jay. Eli could run away from the station—maybe run all the way home—but that would attract more attention than what they already had. Beyond the two men intimidating Jay, the woman with her two small kids was now flagging down the attendant indoors. Fuck. Bumping into guys like this on the street was one thing. So was playing games at the party. But don't piss off people at a bus stop, Eli chastised in his head, especially when you still have to go home.
"Fuck off," Jay said. "Pick up my lighter, then fuck off."
"Fucking faggot," the man hissed, then spit on the ground. "I ain't picking anything up for no one. Especially an injun."
Jay rose to his feet, his eyes angry and wild. Eli wasn't sure which insult triggered Jay, but it didn't matter. He was on a mission now—like before, being a storyteller. No one talked to him like that. Eli stood too, but got behind Jay, as if this was the only way to hide.
"You have something to say to me?" the guy asked, eyeing Eli and then Jay. "Because I'd love to hear it."
More people aro
und them began to watch the display. Eli felt his skin turn bright pink and the fear inside him mount. He heard the roar of a bus—which he then realized was also thunder on the wind.
"Jay," he said, pulling on his sleeve. "Jay."
No one seemed to hear. Both Jay and the two men were stuck in a stare-down that Eli couldn't puncture. He could feel the weight of the storm, the weight of the fight, and all he wanted to do was run, though his lungs still cried out for air.
"Hey," someone called from inside the Greyhound station. Eli looked up and saw the tired attendant. She crossed her arms over her ample chest, her no-nonsense stare making him feel chastised. "We're calling the police."
"Fuck off," Jay said to her without looking. "Kick these assholes out first."
When nothing was said or done, Jay huffed. He lunged at the men in leather jackets, only to pull away as soon as they flinched. Then an uproarious laugh tore out of Jay, a sick kind of giggle that was punctuated with "made you look, made you flinch" in between the breathy gasps.
"And here you go," Jay said, taking out a cigarette and then dropping it down by the ground in front of the two men. "Smoke up."
Angry and embarrassed, the two men looked at one another. The woman inside said she'd call the police again, and in that moment, Eli knew something was wrong. She was too serious—and Jay was too cavalier. He said he had a plan, but it was clear from the way he continued to laugh that he was winging it. Making it up on the spot. But this wasn't a story for a captive audience. This was real.
"Hey." Eli tried to grab Jay's sleeve again. "We have to go."
Sirens sounded between the crack of thunder—and rain splattered on the thin roof of the Greyhound bus station.
"There's the police…" the woman said again. "I won't tolerate this at my station."
"Fuck," Jay said, his stature stunned. He turned, finally seeing Eli for the first time during the fight. "I'm sorry… we gotta…" His eyes widen as he spotted the cars in the horizon. Eli followed his gaze, then turned back, just as Jay shouted: "Run!"
Jay took off in a sudden bolt down the road that Eli could barely catch up on. With Jay's bag over his shoulder, bouncing and rattling with each step, he followed Jay towards the direction of Tim's mechanic shop. He thought that was where they were running until Jay suddenly grabbed Eli's arm and wrenched him into a turn towards the field behind the shop.
"Wha…?"
"I saw something earlier," Jay said, out of breath, "while we were walking. Just trust me. Follow me. You still have my…?"
Eli nodded and held the bag tight against himself. The backpack felt like his only protection. The sirens were now muffled by the rain, and the rain, once a threat, now came down in thick sheets against them. It felt like the water was chasing them, refreshing and purifying as they ran across a field, over a broken fence, and into the back lot of an old farm house.
"Where are you…? We can't stay here, Jay! People live here."
"But not here," Jay said, pointing up.
When Eli followed his finger, he half expected to see a lightning bolt from the sky. Instead, there was a tree house hidden inside an old oak tree. They both stopped beneath the tree's thick trunk, eyes fixated.
"How do we get up?"
Jay walked around the outside, taping and shaking branches until a rope ladder fell. He pulled it taut in a hurried motion, before passing it over to Eli.
"You up first. You have the bag."
Eli didn't argue. His palms gripped the frayed edge of the ladder and began to move. The rain pelted him in an uneven manner, now that he was protected by the thick brush of the tree. He climbed and climbed, feeling the ladder tighten when Jay got on too. Higher and higher—until the wooden planks of the tree house suddenly became visible.
"Get in and over," Jay shouted behind him. "In and over, and then help me pull the ladder up."
Eli did as he was told. He flung himself inside the wooden shelter, hearing some boards creak—but still hold his weight. In the side corner were bunches of leaves, still smelling like the stink of fall that had lasted through the winter and now into summer. There was a small window on one side, which looked out at the old farm house, its view only partly obscured by oak leaves. Out the other window, overlooking the city, there was the moon, covered by clouds, and a lightning storm in the distance.
Jay stumbled inside, then pulled the ladder up. He tossed it in the corner, then looked out the city window. Eli followed, pressing his body next to Jay's as they both watched the blue-and-red sirens of the car on the road. They could see so much of the town from there, looking down, as if they were on a cloud.
"Come on…" Jay murmured under his breath. "Drive on. Drive on."
The black cars turned around, blue-and-red lights still on—but sirens silenced. One car drove through a subdivision while the other stayed by the Greyhound station. After another moment, the car in the subdivision left, its lights off.
"Come on…" Jay hissed. The black car at the Greyhound station backed up, checked the mechanic's place, and then went back to where it had come from.
"Yes!" Jay shouted. He turned to Eli next to him and wrapped him into a hug. He smelled like rain water and sweat, tinged with smoke. An earthy smell—one that reminded Eli of the reservation. He barely had enough composure to wrap his arms around him, hugging back, before the embrace was done.
"Jay," Eli asked. "How are we going to get home?"
Jay looked out the window toward the Greyhound station. They both watched as the last bus rolled in, then rolled out.
"Fuck." Jay ran a hand through his hair, now half-soaked, and then looked at Eli with a quiet expression. Now that there were no sirens and their hearts had gone back to normal, all Eli could hear was the swell of the storm.
"Fuck," Eli echoed. He began shaking. "We're gonna get struck by lightning. We're gonna get… this is the one place we're not supposed to be in a storm. We're not supposed to be in a tree!"
"Shhh," Jay said. He leaned forward and reached out, but Eli pushed him away. Images of his parents' old house flooded his mind. The singed carpets, the rotten wood in the back lot. He thought of the storms that had torn through other reservations, ripping up shingles and denting big trucks. Then Eli saw the oak tree in his imagination, split down the centre with its roots exposed, the house atop split in two—Eli and Jay on opposite sides.
"Shhh," Jay said again. "Just give it time, Eli. Everything passes with time."
Eli, still wet and mad and shaking, looked back over the horizon through the other window. All he could see was black now that the moon was hidden behind clouds. There was rain, but rain was the only sound. He calmed down. Maybe, maybe Jay was right. Maybe the storm was far away. It was hard to tell in Saskatchewan. The land was so damn flat.
"Remember?" Jay urged. "You can count. One, two, three… between the lightning bolts. And you know how far away it all is. There hasn't been anything in so long. The storm is too far."
Eli nodded. He tried to breathe in and out slowly. He remembered what he did when he was younger. There was no bed to hide in, but he could pretend he wasn't there. That he wasn't anywhere at all…
Then a forked stab of lightning lit up the sky. He and Jay both gasped. Even as Jay snapped back to reality, and began to count, there was only so much time that could pass between the numbers before Eli lost faith again.
*~*~*
"Ten," Jay said. "There was ten seconds between that one. We're gonna be fine, Eli."
They had been in the tree house for about an hour. The field was quiet down below, save for the rain and wind that knocked the tall grasses back and forth. Jay kept a lookout through the city window, noting when cop cars patrolled by—no sirens or lights, just a drive-by. Eli figured they would probably patrol most of the night, trying to find where the two of them had gone. The police surely had their descriptions from everyone at the bus stop. No one really forgets about two Indians who fight with white men.
The storm continued. The thunde
r and lightning seemed to get farther away, but it was impossible to get dry inside the tree house. There were a couple inches from around the windows and the opening where the rain slanted inside and warped the wood. Jay's hair refused to dry, since he kept looking outdoors, and Eli's was damp at his neck. Even when the tree house creaked in the wind, Eli was pretty sure the whole thing would hold them. The nails were new—he ran his fingers over some of the bolts as he sat in the corner, stewing in his own anger. He hadn't spoken much since they got inside the tree house. For the first time since they were kids, Eli had nothing to say to Jay.
"You okay?" Jay asked. "I haven't seen lightning in a while now. There's no reason to be afraid."
Eli turned away. He scooped up the old leaves from the corner and hurled some of them outside the tree house window. A rustle sounded from the bottom, as if they had disturbed jackrabbits. Jay reflexively looked back out at the highway, but spotting nothing, turned towards Eli again.
"Come on. You're freaking me out, man. You're not usually quiet. I'm worried about you."
Eli sighed. He pulled his knees to his chest, trying to get warm. He opened his mouth—to say what, he didn't know—but only heard thunder in the distance.
"I didn't even see the lightning for that one," Jay announced. "We're safe. I mean—lightning can't strike the same spot twice, right? You've already been hit, more or less."
Eli didn't bother to open his mouth and explain that it wasn't about him as a person and that made him exempt from lightning, but the place. His mother and father's place had been hit, and as cluttered and familiar as the tree house seemed, it wasn't home. They could still be struck again.
"Come on. Talk to me. I need you, too, out here. You ever think that I'm scared?"
Eli narrowed his eyes at Jay. "You're never afraid."
The Life and Death of Eli and Jay Page 6