She’d heard enough about tradition and the old ways and the forgetting about how it should be done. These people were living in a modern world and if they wanted to keep tradition they’d first have to agree on exactly what the tradition was.
Oct. 6/96
I feel so bad for Sam and his family. They all thought that because Sam’s grandmother was so highly respected, they would respect her wishes. They said yes to her face, and said no behind her back. What should have been a beautiful ceremony became public humiliation for all concerned. Even the naysayers were humiliated.
Crows
A black cloud of crows
descended without honour
they left respect at the door;
There is no respect
in hearts that are weak
There is no belief
in the heart of a thief.
~ ~
The next day Sam told China that Dan Black and his henchmen were being shunned by the rest of the Grimshaws.
“Well, I’m glad,” said China with satisfaction. “I guess Black Eagle won’t be Chief after all. Will you have to do another ceremony now?”
“China, Dan Black has enough money to buy this whole island. His son will be Chief. This will all be forgotten in a week and the villagers will be cheering and stuffing their bellies and opening their gifts as Black Eagle becomes the Chief of our Clan. My dear mother has once again ruined my life. She just wouldn’t wait for me to straighten things out. She couldn’t wait to be the mother of the Chief,” said Sam bitterly.
China held her tongue. Like mother, like son. If only Sam had taken charge of the situation. Perhaps he would never have been Chief of his Clan, but he could have saved himself great humiliation. Maybe if he had talked to his family and campaigned to be Chief, he would have had more people on his side. Ifs and useless maybes.
~ ~
Two days later, when Anita and May and family had unhappily departed, Marisa knocked on China’s door and handed her a bag.
“It’s Sam’s blanket,” she stated bluntly.
“Thank you Marisa,” said China. “Would you like to come in?”
“No, I gotta go,” said Marisa as she ran down the front steps.
China closed the door and took the blanket out of the bag. Buttons and shells fell all over the floor. Sam’s blanket was still unfinished. China wondered, not for the first time, just whose side Marisa was on.
The good news was that the ancient head-dress had been found. It had appeared miraculously on Marisa’s kitchen table one day after the aborted Thunder Ceremony. Marisa said that a lot of people had been in the house and anyone could have taken it, and returned it, without her knowledge.
Sam’s belief was that Marisa’s son had been unable to sell it because Sam had issued a detailed description of the artifact to the RCMP. China believed that Marisa had just wanted to add another obstacle to the Thunder Ceremony, for what inscrutable reason China would probably never know. Nor did she want to.
~ ~
One month later, on the full moon, Black Eagle became Chief of the Eagle Clan. Just about the whole population, including Sam’s supporters, attended the Thunder Ceremony. The villagers had to eat in shifts and the celebrating and dancing and drumming carried on for two days. Black Eagle, erected the biggest totem in the village, one that he’d been carving for two years. It was quite a show. One that China and Sam didn’t see. They stayed quietly in their house. Sam watched television and slept, and China sculpted as though her life depended on it.
The day after the Chief Black Eagle’s Thunder Ceremony, Bear came to talk to Sam. He didn’t stay for long. China entered the livingroom with the tea tray. She took one look at Sam’s face and knew something was dreadfully wrong.
“Where’s Bear?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
Sam stared off into space and told her about the latest blow to his pride.
“My dear grandmother and grandfather were at Black Eagle’s Thunder Ceremony. Granny put the blanket around Black Eagle’s shoulders. Those bastards! She probably didn’t know what she was doing. She’s half blind and deaf and totally confused. She probably thought that Black Eagle was me.”
China stared at Sam and believed what he said. Sam and Black Eagle had a strong family resemblance. She sat down on the couch, horrified at what had happened to Sam and his family.
“Oh no. Oh, Sam, I’m so sorry. Your Mother will be devastated.”
“I’m going to the office. I’ll call her from there,” said Sam resolutely. “She probably knows already. I’m sure one of the village idiots called to tell her the good news.”
~ ~
Two weeks later when China picked up the phone to call Jane she heard no dial tone. Shit, she thought, now what? Life on Grimshaw Island was getting far too grim for words. She hurried to Sam’s office to call the telephone company. He was sending a fax when she arrived.
“Hi,” said Sam. “What’s up?”
“There’s something wrong with the phone. I want to call the phone company.”
“I’ll call them as soon as I’ve finished sending the fax.”
“Okay,” said China. “Are you coming home soon?”
“Yup. I’ll be done in a few minutes. Why don’t you go down to the beach and I’ll come get you when I’m ready?”
China busied herself with picking up pieces of old coloured glass worn smooth by the sand and waited for Sam. Twenty minutes later she saw Sam waving to her and she met him at the car.
“So? What did the phone company have to say?” asked China.
“Well,” said Sam ruefully. “It seems that there wasn’t enough money in the account to cover my cheque.”
“Oh, Sam!” wailed China. “How can you write a cheque when you know it’ll bounce?”
“I thought I’d get a cheque from the Band Council in there before it had a chance to bounce.”
“That trick used to work in the old days, before computers, not now! Will you please be more careful?”
“I’ll pay the bill at the bank tomorrow. It should only be a couple of days before the phone is hooked up again.”
“Right,” said China grumpily. “Now there’ll be a charge for the hook up.”
Three days later there was still no service and China was in a state. It was bad enough that she lived on a reserve in the middle of nowhere, but her lifeline to her loved ones was cut off and it just wasn’t good enough. She hung up the useless phone and yelled out to Sam.
“Sam, the phone still isn’t working. Did you pay the bill yesterday?”
Sam came down the stairs pulling on a sweater.
“Ahhh, no,” admitted Sam.
“Why not?” asked China incredulously.
“The Band Council didn’t give me the cheque yet.”
“Jesus Christ! Sam, if you don’t get that cheque and pay the phone bill today, I’ll go to the Band Council myself and yell at them until they fork it over.”
Don’t do that China, thought Sam angrily. They’re not going to pay me until I finish that proposal. I should get it done today.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get the cheque today.”
Sam left and China cleaned up the kitchen and then vacuumed, putting her angry energy to good use.
~ ~
Two more days went by before the phone was re-installed. When it rang for the first time it sounded like music to China’s ears until she heard the grim news from Sam.
“China, Granny’s dead,” said Sam in a shaky voice.
“Oh no. What happened?” asked China.
“A heart attack. Pop said she got up this morning and just fell down like a stone. I saw the ambulance outside their house on my way to work.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I’ll call mom. You call May. Just stay by the phone and get the house ready for visitors.”
China hung up and braced herself for the biggest Grimshaw celebration of all - the funeral of a Grimshaw Princess.
Mary Ea
gle died at the venerable old age of ninety-three and was probably grateful for the blessed release from her long and difficult life, but Sam’s mother, Anita, took it badly and blamed her death on the shock of Sam’s aborted Thunder Ceremony. She was loud in her condemnation of Dan Black. The village mourned deeply for the passing of the oldest woman on the island. It wasn’t just a Princess who had died. Mary Eagle was the oldest living memory of a way of life that would never come again. Sam felt bad that he hadn’t been to see her since her betrayal, but he forgave her and himself by making sure that his beloved grandmother had the best and biggest funeral the village had seen in a long time.
~ ~
Men-A-Pause
Sam left a week after his grandmother’s funeral and life on the island went back to its normal, quiet pace. China was so busy carving she hardly had time to miss Sam. She was proud that she was now able to add to their income by selling a few of her latest driftwood carvings at the local hotel. The owner had allowed her to display a couple on the walls of the diningroom and they had both sold and now she had a commission for two more. Money had been tight ever since they had arrived on the island. When they were in Toronto Sam had thrown money around as though he had an endless supply at his fingertips. He tended to be exceedingly vague about his salary and China vowed that as soon as he returned they would have a heart to heart about money and budgeting and the future. Although Sam had made several trips from the island since their arrival in June, China had remained like a prisoner in a strange place. What had happened to Sam’s promise that they’d travel together? What had happened to the promise that while Sam was away, China could visit with Sarah, or Jane and Tina, or her parents in Newfoundland? She’d been so busy honeymooning and exploring the island and enjoying new experiences and worrying over Thunder Ceremonies, that she hadn’t been able to stop and think for very long. Every now and then an uneasy feeling would creep into her belly, but before she had a chance to question its origin, something would distract her. The days flew by and before she knew it, she’d been on Grimshaw Island for five months. Christmas was coming and no plans had been made. Worry and questions were making a knot in her belly.
Sam returned several days before Christmas and as soon as the sexual preliminaries had been taken care of, China screwed up her courage and faced her new husband with her concerns. Her stomach churned and she was disappointed that even though she’d reached the grand age of forty-six, she still had difficulty approaching money matters with confidence. She could deal with her own confidently, but the men in her life had always brought in much bigger salaries, and so far she’d never found a man who would easily share the secrets of their financial successes or disasters.
“Sam,” said China bravely. “You haven’t mentioned what holidays you’ll be having over Christmas. I don’t think we can afford to go to Newfoundland, but I thought maybe we could go and stay with Jane and Tina for a few days.”
“Pop is in a pretty bad way since Granny died so I thought we’d spend Christmas here,” said Sam from behind his newspaper.
“Oh,” said China. “Well, in that case, do you think that on your next trip we could afford another ticket for me so that I can visit Jane and Tina? I really miss them.”
“Sure,” replied Sam. “There’s usually a seat sale sometime in February.”
“Great. Okay. Ummmm, sweetie?” questioned China carefully. “I think we need to talk about finances and plans for the next year.”
“Don’t you worry about that China. I know things have been a bit difficult, but it’s getting better all the time. By this time next year, we’ll have our own house and we’ll be able to bring Jane and Tina with us to Newfoundland for Christmas. I’m going over to the Band Council for a while.”
Sam kissed China and left her with the feeling that she had just been patted on the head and told to be a good girl and Daddy would make everything all better.
~ ~
China was brushing her teeth and saw something she did not appreciate.
“Sam,” hollered China. “Come here. Come here now!”
“What’s wrong? Where are you?”
“In the bathroom.”
“Oh, you kinky thing.”
“I’ll put a kink in it, all right. What’s that mess?” demanded China, pointing to the toilet.
“What mess?”
“So, now you’re blind as well as filthy. Sam, don’t you ever check the toilet to see if you’ve left anything behind?”
“Isn’t that being just a bit anally retentive?” grinned Sam.
“Obviously, you are not. I cleaned that toilet yesterday and now it needs cleaning again.”
“Have you got PMS?”
“Get to work,” said China angrily, shoving the toilet brush at Sam. She stomped out of the bathroom raging at the piggishness of men. She didn’t feel superior. She knew Sam would seek revenge for her insistence that he clean up his own mess. She didn’t have to wait long.
China turned off the lights and climbed into bed where Sam was feigning sleep. She lifted the duvet to climb into bed and was met with a most unpleasant odour.
“Oh for God’s sake, Sam.”
She jumped out of bed, grabbed her perfume bottle and sprayed in Sam’s direction.
“Take that, you disgusting creature!”
Sam threw off the bed clothes to reveal the erection he’d manufactured while waiting for her to finish her bedtime ablutions.
“Take this, you wanton perfectionist. You’re so sexy when you’re disgusted.”
“In your dreams!”
“I thought you didn’t want to be ravished in the middle of the night.”
“Okay, okay,” acquiesced China wearily. “But don’t take too long. I’m tired.”
“You are such a turn on. Would you mind wiggling a little?”
China laughed, gave up, gave in, gave it up, put out, put it in, and finally, fell asleep, tucked contentedly into Sam’s snoring body.
“Men,” she mumbled. “You gotta love em. They’re impossible to like.”
“Love you too,” mumbled Sam, rolling over.
~ ~
China seriously considered hormone therapy after a week of emotional turmoil. She wondered if estrogen pills would turn her whole world around and make life rosy again, or at least pale pink. She read more and more about men-a-pause and seemed to have all the symptoms. Depression, high as a kite, hot flashes, rage, insomnia, migraines, the works. She couldn’t reconcile her feelings with anything approaching sanity. The past was haunting her as though it were present, she was sensitive to the point of idiocy, and she felt like she was wearing her nerves on her sleeve.
She described her symptoms to Sam and didn’t quite get the needed response.
“Sam, I feel like I want to punch your face in, or kill you,
or throw you down on the floor and fuck your brains out.”
“One out of three ain’t bad,” said Sam cheerfully.
China called the clinic for an appointment. Maybe a doctor could help.
“Is this for an annual checkup?” asked the receptionist.
“No,” replied China. “I’m having terrible mood swings and it’s probably men-a-pause but I think I’m going crazy and I’d just like to have that confirmed.”
"Are you married?”
“Yes,” said China, wondering what that had to do with the price of tea.
“Well, that’s probably why you’re feeling out of sorts. How about 3pm tomorrow?”
China agreed and hung up. Maybe the wacky receptionist was right. Maybe she should consider sending Sam to the doctor. How come women always had to take the pills? What if estrogen was really a tranquillizer prescribed by the male medical establishment to sedate women so they wouldn’t kill their husbands? She thought of slipping the estrogen pills into the warrior's cereal. Maybe they would make Sam more sensitive. Maybe men-a-pause, was just a woman's coming of wisdom wherein she finally realizes that she really can live without sex. Can we? Chin
a wondered.
What if all her foolishness really was men-a-pause and not wisdom and she left the warrior and then found that she was just as crazy living by herself! No, she’d try the pill first, even if it was a tranquillizer. If the pill didn't work, if she didn't suddenly become reasonable with no outrageous mood swings and horrible headaches, then she’d know it was all the warrior's fault and base any future decisions on the fact that Sam was a man and there was no known substitute.
Her worst fears had come to pass. Instead of the male race changing to keep up with the changes women had gone through, they had developed rampant neuroses. Men had become pathological couch potatoes and channel surfers. The end was in sight. It was a race to see who would win which was really pathetic because there would be nothing left to win. Either men would blow up the whole world with warring and channel surfing, or women would stockpile sperm, kill all the male babies, and fuck androids.
China left the medical clinic with a prescription for estrogen and some rather disconcerting information that did nothing to cheer her up. She called Jane to tell her the news.
“Well, beauty, it seems that my uterus has let me down, literally. The damn thing is falling out. I’ll need a hysterectomy.”
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