She had on rubber boots and very baggy trousers of undyed canvas tied with nylon cord. She wore a flannel logger’s shirt on which the red and black plaid was just visible. Her white hair hung long and loose. She was badly stooped, and she used a length of rusted reinforcing bar to help her as she hobbled toward the boys. One of her eyes was clouded. The other was as blue as the winter sky.
She said “Want a cookie?”
Will waited, then turned to Shaughnessy and said “Want a cookie?”
Shaughnessy shrugged and looked away.
Will said to the old woman “What is it? What’s a cookie?”
The woman cackled shrilly. There was not a tooth in her mouth. “What’s a cookie!” She thumped her rebar on the deck. Then she was suddenly serious. She put a hand on Will’s shoulder and leaned close. Her breath smelled muddy, like the river. She whispered “I saw a fish.”
Shaughnessy said “There ain’t no fish.” He seemed angry.
The old woman turned and motioned with her head for them to follow. They stood between rose plants and stared down at the river. The grey-green current was running fast. She pointed with her rebar. “Right there.” They watched the spot for a minute, but the fish did not appear.
Will cleared his throat. “Would you like to trade for a rabbit snare?” He held up one of the copper loops.
The woman said “And look at them bastards.” She was glaring up toward Fundy’s Bridge. She shook her rebar at the small figures of the men standing there.
Will said “There’s a lot of rabbits. They’re easy to catch. The meat is real good.”
The woman yelled up at the bridge “Filthy rotten bastards!”
Will said “Well, I guess we’ll be goin’, then.”
She turned to him. “What do you want for a snare?”
“I don’t know. What have you got?”
“Let’s see. I don’t have much to spare. I’ll give you a kiss.” She cackled.
Will tried to smile but could not reply.
“A kiss not good enough? How about I let both of you see me in the altogether? That ought to be worth a snare.”
“Well... What is that? What’s the altogether?” said Will. Shaughnessy nudged him and signaled for an escape. The woman cackled again. Will said “Here. Just take one. I’d like you to have it.”
She took the snare. “If you wanted to give it to me, why didn’t you just give it to me?”
“Bye, Amber.”
“What I need is a fish net. Make me a fish net and I’ll make your dreams come true.”
As the boys backed away she waved her bar at Fundy’s Bridge again and screeched up at the distant men “Bastards! You’re a bunch of filthy rotten bastards!”
13
He saw Noor sitting at the end of the railroad bridge, more than halfway across the river. He walked out along the bridge through light cold rain. He had a wool poncho and no hat. It was a swing bridge and ran level over the water. The old car bridge, his bridge, loomed massive and dark above him on his right. Soon he could see that she sat with her feet dangling over the end where the railroad bridge stood forever open. And he could see that she was staring down into the river. He called softly “Noor.”
She did not react, but when he was very close she held up her right hand without turning, just to the shoulder, and he saw that there was something, a folded page, pinched between the thumb and index finger. He stopped briefly and slipped a hand under his poncho and probed the pocket of his shirt, which he found to be empty. He came close and wrapped his hand around hers and then slid the page from her fingers. She let her hand fall and said, very quietly “I’m sorry. I took it.”
Now Frost too looked down, past his granddaughter, over the end of the bridge. He heard the rush of the water and saw the confused swirl of mud-green eddies. He said “I should not have brought it home.” He touched her head. There was rain beaded in her hair.
She said “Just leave me.”
Frost went back along the railroad bridge. Before he got to the point where the tracks ran onto his farm he tore the folded page in half and then tore those pieces in half and flung the handful of paper toward the edge of the bridge. But a random gust of air rising off the water caught the bits of paper, and a fragment snagged in a curl of his hair. He walked on, head down, and soon another chance breeze snatched away the torn image of forest and snow.
The River Trail ran east and west along the water’s edge. Here it crossed under the south end of Frost’s Bridge and passed onto Frost’s Farm. Where the rusted and grown-over tracks crossed the Trail Frost looked up and stopped. An old man was standing there waiting. He had neither poncho nor hat in the cold drizzle. He had a sleeveless pullover shirt and canvas trousers and sandals. His hair was thin and white and hung in wet strings over his shoulders. He had a wispy white beard. His eyes showed nothing but defeat and exhaustion.
“Damn” said Frost.
Without another word they started toward the domicile, with Wing leaning on Frost’s shoulder. Not far ahead Wing’s men and a child or two and Wing’s dogs were moving in a straggly group in the same direction. Farther on, people were flooding out of the domicile. Frost’s dogs raced to meet Wing’s.
The door of the clinic opened. Grace stepped out and stood there with a hand over her mouth. Then she untied the dog that was guarding the clinic, and it came racing too. She stood beside the open door, leaning back against the wall, with her hands hanging loose at her sides, looking down at the ground as Wing’s people trudged past.
Noor was beside Wing now, on the other side from Frost. She said nothing, but laid a hand on Wing’s shoulder for a minute and then ran ahead. She passed Will, who was coming from the domicile. Frost held out his hand and Will took it and held it tight.
“What happened, Grampa?”
“Run back and make sure the fire is going. Build it up if it’s not.”
“Why? What happened? Are they comin’ to our place?”
“Just go back and see to the fire. Quickly now.”
Frost’s people jammed the hallway outside his open door as Frost and Noor and Will and Daniel Charlie and his woman Jessica did what they could for Wing and his men and the children. Will took down his grandfather’s hammock so that everyone could come close to the fire. They sat on the floor. Will had not managed to build the fire up much, but the apartment was warm. Noor called out into the hallway for hot soup, and she set her own pot on the fire. Wing sat on the floor, closest to the fire, with his men huddled close around him. A baby girl and a young boy soon fell asleep on their fathers’ laps.
Frost stood looking out the window. From time to time he shook his head and sighed. Grace came into the apartment, stepping among the men, and stood beside Frost..
It was quiet for a few minutes. Then Wing started crying. He sat with his knees up and his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, and he sobbed loudly. Frost did not look away from the window, but his own shoulders also shook. After a while Wing was quiet, and Frost turned from the rain-filled window and said “Who can tell it?”
For a minute no one said anything. Then a young man called Nordel spoke up. “I can tell it.” He was sitting on the opposite side of the group from Frost, leaning back against the wall. He had a wool poncho and a long wool kilt, which were still wet. He had been one of Wing’s guards at the market the day Frost had got his new glasses and came home with the skag addict. He had a plain, handsome Chinese face and was bald, with the remaining fringe of black hair cut short. He had a strong voice but marked his story with frequent hesitations, as if he were reluctant to recall any more of what had happened.
“I was on the bridge” he said “ in the middle of the bridge - me and Bridgeport and Pender. We were guardin’ it with three dogs. No one was crossin’ - we were just there to guard it, not to get toll. We had swords and spears, and we had the dogs. We’d been there since dawn. We were waitin’ for Wing to send someone up to take our place. Then one of our dogs, Buddy I think it w
as - he barked.
“Then, ‘Look,’ says Bridgeport, and points down the bridge toward the Town end. So I look, and Christ, the bridge is full of people. I never seen so many people on the bridge. They were spread right across it, and they were walkin’ up towards us. They were Langley’s men, I knew that right away. They were Langley’s men and they all had them crossbows. Then all the dogs start barkin’. It wasn’t that kind of barkin’ like when the dogs want to you to let them loose so they can take after somethin. It was more a scared kind of barkin’. But when they’re scared, that’s when they make the most noise. And while they were goin crazy barkin’ they were backin’ away a little, and the leashes went slack.”
Will had been sitting beside a boy who was near his own age. Now he rose and went to his grandfather and leaned against him. His thumb was in his mouth.
Nordel went on “There must of been fifty of them, and every one had a crossbow. They just come up the bridge without a sound. And out in front was a wagon sort of thing, except that it just had two wheels. And it had long shafts, and two men on each shaft were pullin’ it up the bridge.”
There was muttering from the listeners in the hallway, and from the hallway came Tyrell’s voice like a sudden crackle of gunfire. “That’s his rickshaw. I knew we should of killed that son of a bitch when we had the chance.”
Nordel said “We didn’t know what to do. We knew we should stay and protect the farm...” He paused. When he resumed there was a momentary break in his voice. “But we knew we didn’t have a chance. While we were talkin’ over what to do they were getting’ pretty close. Then somethin’ bounces off the pavement in front of us. It come low and straight, so none of us saw it comin’. Digger gives a loud yelp and don’t stop yelpin’, and I see he’s got somethin stickin’ out of his chest. Pender, you still got that?”
One of the men held something up. He said “I hid this under my poncho.” It was a six-inch length of reinforcing bar, sharpened at one end, with three hard plastic vanes like arrow feathers attached at the other end. Daniel Charlie had been standing near the door. Now he stepped carefully in among Wing’s men and took the crossbow bolt from Pender. He said “Someone’s got a grindstone. And someone’s got a hacksaw. This ain’t skagger work.” He went back to his place by the door and stood there examining the bolt, turning it in his hands.
Nordel continued “Pender picked up Digger, and we took off back to the farm. I guess everybody must’ve heard the barkin’ and yelpin’, ’cause they were all outside waitin’ for us.”
The boy who had been sitting beside Will said “We saw them comin’ down the bridge behind you.”
Nordel said “We held down Digger and pulled that thing out of him. But he was bleedin’ too much. We could see he wasn’t going to make it.”
Wing muttered toward the fire “I should’ve been ready for them. Why the hell wasn’t I ready?”
Frost said “Wing, there’s no way you could’ve known what they were up to. But now we know. They’re not taking any more farms after this.”
“You’re god damn right they’re not.” It was Tyrell.
Nordel went on “We couldn’t fight them - not with just swords and spears - I guess our dogs could of messed up two or three of them , but what’s the point? – they probably would of killed all of us then. And we couldn’t run away and leave the farm. So we just waited. They come down our trail, with that there rickshaw at the front. Sure enough it was Langley sittin’ in it. We could see him clear now. The rickshaw had a roof to keep the rain off, and he was wrapped up in a heavy blanket...”
“A quilt” said someone.
“...a quilt. A pink quilt" Nordel went on. “He stopped when he got close, but still out of spear-throwin’ distance. His men spread out in a line on both sides with their crossbows pointed at us. The four men set down the shafts of the rickshaw, and Langley pushes that pink quilt off and steps out and comes forward a couple steps. He’s wearin’ a real leather jacket.
“He just stands there a minute, lookin’ at us, smilin’ a little. Then he stretches out his arms and gives a big loud yawn. He says – he’s got this whiny voice – he says, ‘Ain’t this weather a bitch? I hate to come out on such a nasty day, but I knew you’d be at home eatin’ spuds and havin’ a nice a rest after your outstandin harvest.’ He’s got some red sores or somethin’ on his face, and he’s scratchin’ at these while he’s talkin’.”
Some plastic bowls and some spoons were passed in from the hallway. Using one of the bowls as a ladle, Noor dished out soup. The young boy woke up and was given a bowl, but the baby kept sleeping. Noor had far from enough, but before she was finished, pots of more hot soup started arriving. She closed the doors of the fireplace.
Nordel ate for a few minutes, then set his bowl down and continued his account. “‘Anyway,’ says Langley, ‘first things first. Chuck them weapons over this way. Just chuck them on the ground.” We waited. We knew we had to give up our weapons, but no one wanted to be the first. ‘Don’t go makin’ me mad!’ shouts Langley. Wing had his sword with him. He throws it out about twenty feet. Then we all did the same – swords and spears on the ground. And we all stood there, men at the front, women and kids behind, and we knew he could do whatever he wants with us now. What choice did we have? I guess we could of chose to die. But we didn’t. I guess we should of.” Nordel looked down at the floor.
Frost said quietly “No, you did the right thing" and when Nordel did not continue he said “What happened after that?”
The room was heating up. There was a strong smell of wet wool and wet hair. Nordel took a breath and went on, but without looking up from the floor. “When all our swords and spears were out there on the ground, Langley says, ‘Now keep aholt of them dogs. Or we have dog for supper. Sound good, Freeway?’ He meant that big bastard we see at the market sometimes. He was standin’ behind Langley a little and off to one side. He had a sword but no crossbow. Freeway says, ‘Yum,’ and Langley’s soldiers all laughed.
“Langley says, ‘You got a nice farm here. I like farms. You like this here farm, Wing? You put a lot of work into this place. Shame to lose it. Well, I tell you what. You got the milk of human kindness. I like that too. It’s a wonderful, wonderful thing. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. So I’m going to let you keep this farm. Why? Why am I going to let you keep this nice farm? 'Cause I got it too. I got the milk of human kindness. Ain’t I, boys?’ And his soldiers are all laughin’ and shoutin’ out how Langley’s got the milk of human kindness.
“And when his men settle down he says, ‘Here’s the deal. This is what they call a proposal. I propose that you can stay here on your farm, Wing – how does that sound?’ Wing didn’t answer, of course. So Langley says “And you can grow potatoes and carrots, and milk your cows just like always. Come on – it sounds great – admit it. I get the bridge though. You knew that. It don’t take a genius. I like bridges even more than farms, see. You pay a tax every time you want to cross, but that’s a small price for getting’ to keep your farm.’ He shrugged. ‘A tiny price. Eeny weeny. Ain’t it?’ No one said nothin’. We knew he wasn’t finished. He was just entertainin’ his soldiers and showin’ us who’s the boss. Then he says, ‘Oh, I also get your women.’”
There was a stirring among the men seated on the floor. The small boy started to cry. The father rose and left the apartment with his child. The crying faded in the corridor and then was heard echoing in the stairwell. Wing stared grimly into the fire.
Nordel said “We all hollered when we heard that. We hollered No, you ain’t takin’ our women. And we cussed. And the women started wailin’. And we waved our fists. And we made to charge forward. A few of us even took a step. But none of us did charge forward. ’Cause them crossbows was still pointed at us.
“In a minute we settled down a little. Then Freeway comes forward, to one side of the group of us. He nudges Burnaby here away from the group with his sword.” As he said that, Nordel reached out and touched the arm of a grey-ha
ired man seated near him. “Moves him maybe fifty feet away. Then he comes back and stands in front of us and points at us one by one with his sword. And soon we are all off in a group with Burnaby, and the women and kids are there in their own group, with nothin’ between them and Langley’s soldiers but forty feet of muddy ground.
“Langley says, ‘Send the kids over.’ The women were quiet by now. It’s like they had made up their minds, like they knew the best thing was to stay calm and do what they were told. For the time bein’, anyway. So little Skytrain comes runnin’ over and his dad scoops him up. That’s them that went out just now. And Willow brings her baby over and hands it to Mitchell. Her and Mitchell just look at each other for a second, then she walks back. But she don’t get half way before she starts to collapse. Two of the women run out and help her. It’s lucky the soldiers didn’t shoot the three of them.”
Nordel paused and said “Frost, could someone find a place for Surrey here to lay down. He’s more wore out than he looks.” Nordel gestured toward the boy who Will had been sitting beside.
Jessica made her way to the boy. She was big, like her man Daniel Charlie. Her hair hung down her back in a thick white braid. Surrey took her hand, and they went out. Nordel waited a minute before resuming. “There was one more child. But I guess Langley didn’t think she was a child. Her name was Snow.”
Frost looked down at Will, who still had his thumb in his mouth and seemed to want to bury his head in his grandfather’s side. Frost bent and whispered “Why don’t you go and see if Surrey is getting on all right.” But Will just shook his head, a single quick motion.
Nordel had been watching them. Now he said “She was – I mean she is – twelve or thirteen. Her mom give her a little push, and she starts over towards her dad. She’s lookin’ down at the ground and walkin’ fast. Annacis – that’s her dad – he says, ‘Come on, Snow.’ He says it quiet and in as calm of a voice as he could manage. We’re not watchin’ Snow, though. We’re watchin’ Langley. And Langley shakes his head. And Freeway sticks out his sword to block her way. And he says, ‘Nope.’ And he pushes her back with his sword. And now Snow is walkin’ backward, with Freeway pushin’ her along with the side of his sword. And she just stops. And she’s still lookin’ down at the ground. And she screams, ‘Daddy.’”
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