He’d tried to track the trail that had led to that moment in the barn but all signs eluded him. Instead, it sat in him as a sudden surprise, shocking, like that instant when the flicker of lantern light throws the hard yellow eyes of an owl in the rafters into a phosphorescent glow staring right into the inner depths of a man. He’d liked the heady feeling of being totally, witlessly, out of control. He thought of the smallness of her feet, the balmy span of her hand on his shoulders and neck and cheek. The undiscovered map of his being was granted an extra dimension and he grinned and tapped his feet like a young boy dancing in a corn field. The horse whinnied at his sally and brought him back into focus.
There was birdsong now and the bawl of cattle in the free range and Starlight knew it as the backdrop of his whole life. He drank in the morning sounds and when he felt filled he stood and stretched and ambled to the horse, mounted, and walked her to the edge of the face of the ridge. He surveyed it all again before turning and riding back down the trail to the farm, where life and mystery and possibility waited for him to claim it. When the cover of the trees broke and the farm spread out before him he knew what he would say to the people at the gallery. Home. How a man can come to find it on the land, in the creatures it held, in the bowl of the sky easing down over it, and how that same man might capture it forever in a photograph or paint or words so others who might never get the chance might clutch it to their chests and be filled as he was filled by the land. He grinned and kicked the old mare up to a trot and readied himself for the journey.
* * *
—
Emmy rode in the front seat beside Starlight, and Roth and Winnie sat in the back. They plowed through the high plateau of the Cariboo and south at Prince George through Quesnel and Williams Lake, and Emmy felt her belly clutch at the familiar territory of their flight. The farms and ranches were charming. Winnie laughed and joked and teased with Roth. Neither Starlight nor Emmy spoke much, both of them content to watch the land change around them. When they entered the arid, semi-desert near Cache Creek and swung left toward Lillooet, none of them could speak. The land held them in its hypnotic sway as they rounded sweeping curves at the edges of sheer gaping plummets to a river reduced to a thin blue churn far below them. They climbed vertiginous cliffs and ridges where it seemed the face of rock would push them off the asphalt and the views were spellbinding in their panoramic grandeur. Sudden patches of open ground held huge bushes of sage. Mountain sheep lifted their heads as they passed. Now and then they saw what might have been wild mustangs charging across clearings and the effect was that of time displaced and the sensation of witnessing what once was before man and settlement altered it forever.
Starlight took his time driving through it. He pulled over often so they could stand in the energy of that sere, rocky land. He had his camera and he took pictures of Emmy and Winnie on a lookout above a steep canyon and beyond to the flank of mountain and the endless azure of the sky so that it seemed they were pinned to it, the mountains setting a jagged frame to their beings. Winnie gathered a small bunch of sage and Roth tied it together with string. She held it to her nose and inhaled its pungent tang then ran and offered it to Emmy, who did the same, and when she looked up at Starlight her eyes were aflame with excitement. They all turned then and marvelled at the intensity of that impeccable, irreproachable space. Emmy eased closer and put her hand to Starlight’s back and he offered a shy grin and she smiled. When they’d had enough they climbed back into the car. The ravines and gullies and promontories a seeming arm’s length away lulled them all into silence and the drive became a hushed communion with everything, and the morning was swept away with that quiet act of ceremony and the sanctified air of the sage Winnie asked to be tied to the rear-view mirror.
“It’s like a dream,” Winnie said quietly.
Later, they sat on the shore of a lake caught between two towering mountains and ate the lunch Emmy had packed. Then Starlight napped while Emmy, Roth, and Winnie explored the shore and gathered rocks and skipped them across the becalmed surface of the lake. When he woke, Emmy agreed to drive and they continued on into land that was more verdant, and the highway became a meandering calm with copses of aspen and poplar and oak. They made Pemberton and stopped to watch horses run across broad pastures and to admire the elongated lushness of the valley there. The road changed again to humps and hills, and the mountains were so towering that they were rendered speechless again as they passed Whistler and Squamish, where the strait ran alongside the highway and they were lost in the diamond sparkle of the water and the ancient, briny smell wafting in off the water through the half-opened windows of the car.
* * *
—
Vancouver when they entered it was a shining city by the sea. The late-afternoon sun made all the white, beige, and pale pink buildings appear to shimmer and the glass of the downtown towers held mirrored fragments of the nearby mountains and the sparkle of the strait beyond the long, wide harbour. The traffic grew thick and heavy and fast, and Emmy was unnerved by the speed of it.
“Pull ’er over,” Roth said. “Ain’t been a road made I can’t navigate. Regular stock car, pedal-to-the-metal type when it comes to drivin’, me.”
They followed road signs that took them over a long suspension bridge and on into the mayhem of the downtown core. Roth was relaxed at the wheel and Starlight called out directions to him and they found the hotel easily. It was impressive. They entered a circular covered driveway that was filled with hundreds of amber lightbulbs, and uniformed valets took the car to park it and put their luggage on a cart and led them to the front desk, where Starlight introduced himself. The keys were ready and there was an envelope for Starlight from Deacon and they followed the valet to the elevator. Winnie stared around her wide-eyed, reaching out to touch furnishings, wallpaper, and the deep lush carpeting.
“It’s like being in Cinderella,” she said.
Their rooms were side by side and Starlight and Roth could hear squeals of excitement when they stood at the window of their room, staring out across the jutted angles of the city. The envelope held a letter with directions to the gallery and information about restaurants Deacon favoured and things to do to fill up their evening. Starlight and Roth took turns showering and changing and when they were finished Starlight phoned Deacon while Roth catnapped on one of the two king-size beds. There was a knock on the adjoining door and Starlight opened it and Winnie ran in and gazed out the window. Emmy entered demurely and put a hand on Starlight’s chest and he looked at her and smiled. When Roth stirred they made a decision to walk and find a place to take their evening meal.
The streets were awhir with people and the noise was hard and harsh to their ears. But Winnie was fascinated by everything and she held Roth’s hand and tugged him along from storefront to storefront. Emmy took Starlight’s hand and he walked awkwardly at first then found the grace of it and they ambled slowly behind Roth and Winnie.
“Thank you,” Emmy said.
Starlight could find no answer so he just grinned, squeezed her hand, and pointed to things that caught his eye. They walked all the way to Stanley Park and Winnie fed birds from a bag of popcorn Starlight got her and when their hunger finally hit they made their way to a restaurant Deacon recommended. It sat in a cleared space rimmed with trees and a lush carpet of lawn that provided a view of the strait. The food was fabulous and when they were done, it was full evening and they walked the streets until tiredness hit and they walked back to the hotel. Roth and Winnie lay on one of the beds and flipped through channels on the television. Emmy and Starlight stood at the window, gazing at the multitude of lights.
“This was an amazing day, Frank. Winnie is so thrilled. I can’t thank you enough for this,” Emmy said.
“Can’t thank you enough for makin’ the trip with us,” Starlight said.
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
“Me neither now I’m here. Took some doin’.”
“It’s worth th
e wranglin’.”
“Still ain’t no big fan of it. The city, I mean.”
“We don’t have to be. We can just enjoy it while we’re here.”
“I can do that.”
“I know you can. Are you nervous about tomorrow?”
“Not so much. Sittin’ on the ridge this mornin’ put me in a good spot with it.”
“You’ll do great. Just look at me and tell me what you want to say.”
“I like the idea of that.”
She smiled. “I like the idea of you liking it.”
He laughed.
They turned to look at Roth and Winnie. The girl was nestled against the skinny man and fast asleep with her head against his ribs. He had an arm draped protectively around her. When he caught their gaze he grinned and nodded, and Emmy put a hand to her throat and choked back a moan.
“You men are so special,” she said.
“Well, you and Winnie are mighty special yourselves.”
“We should get her into her own bed.”
Starlight crossed the room to where Roth lay and held out his hands and took the girl and lifted her out of Roth’s grasp. Roth stood and held out his own hands to take Winnie back and walked to the adjoining door then turned and winked at the two of them.
“I’ll tuck her in,” he said. “You two say your good nights.”
He disappeared into the next room.
Emmy and Starlight stood there uncertain of what to do or say. Finally, Emmy stepped close and wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly. Starlight lay his chin on the top of her head.
“Frank,” was all she could find to say.
“Emmy,” Starlight said.
He felt like he understood what that meant to him.
THE GALLERY OCCUPIED THE CORNER of two busy streets seemingly dedicated to shops run by artists, artisans, and crafters interspersed with swank boutiques and upscale furniture stores, jewellers, and tourist shops. People seemed to radiate wealth and good taste and Starlight felt himself growing anxious at the idea of standing in front of a crowd of the well-heeled and gentrified. Emmy had insisted he buy a white shirt and he was awestruck at the price of things and uncomfortable in the rich cotton feel of the shirt. The gallery itself was constructed of floor-to-ceiling glass windows and lit by rows of track lighting that threw hard white light everywhere and erased shadow completely. He felt laid bare by it. His photographs were arranged on the walls and on pyramidal stands placed strategically around the main room to encourage inspection. He’d never seen so many of his photos on display together and it amazed him that he’d captured so much. The room was abuzz with conversation and when he entered heads swivelled to regard him. He felt the effect of his bulk and put his head down and walked shyly to the rows of chairs set up in front of an oaken podium with twin microphones aimed at its centre. He removed his jacket and hung it on the back of one of the chairs in the front row and Roth, Emmy, and Winnie followed suit. Then Emmy took him by the hand and walked him to a small bar where a bartender in a crisp white shirt and black vest served them iced water that Starlight drank off in three huge gulps. He stood staring at the empty glass, twirling the ice in it slowly in his hand. Emmy stood beside him while Roth and Winnie inspected the array of photographs.
“They’re wonderful, Frank,” Emmy said.
“Never seen ’em all at one time,” Starlight said. “Kinda weird given I know the when and where of each of ’em. It’s like a tour of my life.”
He heard his name shouted and turned to see Deacon hustling across the room toward them.
“It’s a smash, Frank,” Deacon said. “We have upwards of a hundred and twenty people, art reviewers from three major newspapers, and some high-profile buyers and collectors. They’re all anxious to hear from you.”
“I never knew I done so many,” Starlight said.
“Well, the truth is that the earlier work was sold before I gleaned how important a photographer you would really become. There’s a lot out there in private hands not represented here. I have the negatives, but I didn’t process them for this showing.”
“That’s what this is called? A showing?”
“Yes. It’s what every artist hopes for.”
“I’m wishin’ for my milkin’ pail and my back porch really.”
Deacon laughed and put a hand on the big man’s shoulder. “You’ll do fine. They already love you.”
“Don’t even know me.”
“They get the feeling that they do from the effect of your work. That’s why there’s so many people here. They want to be near the man who caught such intimate moments forever.”
“Hope I can do ’em justice.”
“You will,” Deacon said. “I’ll wait a few minutes and then introduce you and we’re off to the races.”
Starlight nodded and he and Emmy walked slowly among the photographs, stopping to shake hands and exchange pleasantries with people who hailed him. He felt less discomfited with Emmy at his side. She’d splurged on a good dress and shoes and had taken great care in applying makeup so that she seemed to radiate and Starlight felt pride standing with her in the bustle and noise of that room. When they heard Deacon’s voice over the microphone they made their way to their seats and Winnie hugged him tightly. Roth grinned and nodded.
Deacon’s introduction was brief and when he stood and made his way to the podium Starlight was surprised at the level of applause at the mention of his name. He stood back from the podium and heaved a great breath and took a sip of water from a glass set on a small table to the side of the podium. Then he stepped up to it and eyed the crowd. They were polished and shiny faces and they were all angled up to look at him. He didn’t see any he could attribute to being Indian. These people seemed to be from various backgrounds and the common connection was apparently good fortune and wealth. He rubbed at the thighs of his jeans then placed his hands on either side of the podium and cleared his throat. He looked straight at Emmy and she offered a small grin and nodded. He took one final breath, began to speak, and time disappeared.
* * *
—
“I ain’t one to know what it is you want to hear about what I do. It surprises the heck outta me that so many of ya would come to see all this and it surprises me a great deal more that you’d part with cash in order to take some home. I never started taking pictures with any of that or this in mind at all. If anything, I started so’s I could fill a big chunk of lonesome I felt at my centre a few years back now. I was suddenly alone on a farm in the mountains where I been all my life an’ I got the notion to start takin’ a camera with me on my long outings on the land.
“I been doin’ that all my life. I take a horse and a few things I need to pitch a camp and head out alone into that open country. Now there’s some would call that lonesome but I never found that there. Instead, right from when I was a boy, I felt it fill me. I never felt I needed nothin’ in order to cope, handle it, find my way in it. The old man who raised me, and whose passin’ created that big lonesome that’s responsible for all these pictures bein’ taken, had me out on the land on horseback from the moment I can first remember. It was my playground in the beginnin’ and then it was my school and finally it become my home on accounta the love of that old man. That open country is so huge you can feel lost and abandoned in it or you can work to feel a part of it, like ya belong to it and it belongs to you. Like a part of you is rock and stone and stream and all the open sky. Ya get past lonesome then and that’s how I come to feel after the old man died an’ I suppose I started takin’ pictures because them creatures is all my family and I’m family to them as well. Folks walk around with family pictures in their wallets nowadays. I wanted to hang mine on walls. Everyone needs family around. That big chunk of lonesome crumbled off with the first photo I took, and it was Deacon there who developed my first rolls of film and said there was something special to them.
“I never understood that. I never knew what to do with them words at all. See, a man can�
��t track an animal unless he comes to know somethin’ of that animal itself. The way it works out in the open country is that when ya come to know the way of a bear say, ya come to know somethin’ of the whole world and somethin’ of yourself all at the same time. Ya learn more of the bear’s way and the trackin’s easy ’cause yer mostly followin’ yourself. That’s how I come to get so close to them. There ain’t no threat in me. No fear. I’m letting myself live in that big country an’ that big country comes to live inside of me. Them creatures sense that. The old man told me one time, he said, ‘Frank, never forget that we’re animals too.’ I ain’t never forgot that. It’s behavn’ like an animal, like a creature, that allows me to get so close to ’em on accounta they recognize one of their own.
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