“Thanks again for the ride.”
He nodded. I got out of the truck and went to the back. I looked around: the sky was gorgeous. Dusk. The air was sweet. Smoke from Saskatchewan wildfires made the sun pink, and I loved the smell of a bushfire miles and miles away. I grabbed the Glad garbage bags holding the hindquarters of caribou.
“Mahsi,” I said. He waved and I watched him drive away. Big Bingo tonight. He and Ehtsi would be playing hard. Standing with two huge hindquarters of caribou wrapped in four black Glad garbage bags, I wore my Chief Jimmy Bruneau long sleeve under my AFI hoodie and black jeans, fresh out of the dryer. My eyes stung I was so beat. Ehtse had told me that there was a grizzly banging on windows for the past three nights in Wha Ti. It was pregnant. The community tried chasing it away, even firing past her ears, but she’s been coming back the past three nights banging on the windows and houses before being chased away by trucks and dogs. She’s pregnant. What is she doing?
I’d been having bad dreams. Wicked, unholy dreams that had me yelling in my sleep. Last night I had the dream again of a child with its back to me in a field. I heard calls from the bush from animals I did not know. The child was wrapped in rags of hide and it had rotting meat for skin. Its hand held a leash of caribou sinew that held a weasel with a snapped neck. The weasel was rotten, a carcass. In this dream a raven was flying home. The child let out a whistle – a call? The raven was pulled from the air towards the child. The raven flapped wildly, but it was pulled towards the child who grabbed it with the force of its call. It then reached out and grabbed the wings and dug into the bird’s body. The raven let out a cry that I would expect from a rabbit in a snare. I heard its wings snap under its skin as the flesh of the raven was dug into around the throat. This child then began to twist and peel the skin off the raven as it hissed, crying in terror and agony before I woke up. I could still hear the feathers snapping. The dreams have only gotten worse over the summer, and I’m just tired all the time now.
They can remember faces…. Something about the tar sands. Something about the end of the world. I’m sixteen. Why are these dreams so real?
Kids were playing across the street in the playground. Good for them. They were giving ’er on the monkey bars and on the swings.
This was the second time I was invited to Rupert’s in my entire life so it was going to be interesting. The last time I was at the Spruces’, my cousin Francis got all snaked up and got Indian Drunk so all the Dogribs got kicked out. But I guess all was forgiven now that Rupert’s parents were out of town and he wanted to party. I wasn’t a drinker. I was going there for Severina and a Coke. I just had to see her and find out where’s she’d been this past week.
I had a crush on her. And to my surprise, it looked like she had a crush on me. The things we’d been doing all summer…. I was starving for her.
Rupert had called me this morning and asked that I bring as much meat as I could. We had lots so I wasn’t worried, but it was strange how he told me to bring ekwo. It was like he ordered me, but that was fine with me: this was my key to getting to see Severina who hadn’t returned my phone calls for days. She had my AFI CD and, if we weren’t going to fool around anymore, I wanted it back – with the memories. Maybe our summer together meant nothing to her, but it meant everything to me. She was beautiful, and I wanted to be with her again.
The last night we hung out, she said she and her mom were driving from Behchoko to Yellowknife and they saw what looked like six horses running along the highway. As they got closer, they saw it was six moose running, galloping together, away from something. Why? I finally got to the front steps of the Spruce residence and – Whoah! – what was that smell?
The Spruce house was a fortress when you entered from the ground level. No windows. One door. Rupert’s dad was the principal, and they were rich. They had the biggest house in town. As Rupert opened the door, I was met with a wave of flies that buzzed past me. This was strange.
“Is that all you brought?” Rupert peeked out of the door. His eyes were scared. What? This was lots. How many people were we feeding? His face was pale, long with worry. As he opened the door to let me in, the rankness was even stronger as it hit me in a hot wave: Eeh mah! It smelled like curdled milk and fish blood cooked together. As I walked into the house it became stronger: salt, blood, and a rotting of what – meat and old batteries?
“Keep your shoes on,” Rupert said. “You can get more, right?” He leaned against the wall and started panting. He was sweating. It looked like he’d been crying.
“Yeah.” Where was the party?
“Okay,” he took a big breath. “Okay.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He motioned for me to follow and then he whispered, “Severina said you’d help us.”
Severina? She said that? She said I’d help? Help what?
The stench kept getting stronger as I moved towards the bar and living room. It was hot, loud in my nose. My eyes started to water and I immediately switched to breathing through my mouth. I gagged as my eyes watered. The stench was so thick, I could pick it up with my mouth and tongue. The first time I was here I was blown away by how rich his family was: a huge flat screen TV, stacks of videos and DVDs all in their own libraries. Hundreds of movies. But, tonight, I looked down in astonishment. Hundreds of CDs and DVDs were out of their cases on the floor. A mirror was smashed in the hallway and glass was everywhere. Holes were punched in the wall – kicked, it looked like.
This was crazy, all this damage. What had happened? I knew Rupert’s folks were away for a week but this was brutal. Tonight was supposed to be the party. Rupert’s parents had a bar in the basement with mirrors everywhere so you could always see what was happening throughout the room. Norman walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him without even looking at me. He looked horrible, defeated. There was a huge fish tank to the right. It took up half the wall, and yet the fish were all gone.
Rupert walked past me and touched my shoulder. “Put the meat in the freezer.” There was a large white freezer in the hall and I opened the door. I opened it and it was completely empty except for a few black Glad garbage bags that were torn open.
Then I saw them in the far corner on the karaoke stage: the triplets, Marnie, Lisa and Shari, sitting on their own couch, all dressed the same. Their faces were grey, their eyes closed. They looked scared. They were all holding hands. They were squeezing each other’s hands so tightly their arms were shaking. Then I heard them as their mouths moved in sync. They were praying. What the hell was going on here?
Across from them sat Dean Meddows, the town bully. He has changed, I thought. His mouth was open and he was panting, drooling all over himself. His shirt was soaked in it. The meat on his face looked like it was falling off. Blue veins bulged from around his lips and mouth. What was wrong with him? Dean sat on a chair facing the sisters, staring them down. I did not know if he even registered that I was there. He looked ten years older and his face was pale, covered in scabs. It looked like he’d smeared blood into his hair. He was also taller. Somehow, he was taller. Taller than me now. But thin. Too thin. He had scrape burns around his arms and wrists. Rope? I saw ropes that looked sawed through on the floor, around where he sat, the same with bungee cords that looked chewed through. Bottles were everywhere: vodka, gin, Jack Daniels. They were all empty. My heart sank and beat faster, colder. Fear sweat flashed in my armpits.
Rupert moved behind the bar. Petrified. Flies buzzed the air. He came back reading my eyes to see if I understood what was happening here. “What are you drinking?” he was asking but he was saying it different. He was saying it to act normal and buy time. I had to play along and find out all I could before I would know what to do. My eyes started to water with the stench I’d walked into. “Coke.”
“Coke,” he repeated and called to Tony. “Do we have any Coke?”
Tony looked at me and nodded and wen
t down the back hall. He was scared, too. They stole glances at the girls, the triplets. Their look told me that they had lost control of everything here. The air around us was rotting. Where was it coming from? I looked around. There was a bucket in the middle of the floor with a piece of plywood over it in between the triplets and Dean, who was fixated on them. Fear prickled my skin all over. What would my Sensei do?
Tony returned with a six-pack of Coke cans, which he handed to Rupert. He buried his face under the collar of his shirt and took a big breath before coming up for air. Rupert had a huge A&W mug filled with ice waiting and poured to the top with a whole can. He motioned for me to sit at the bar. “Let’s talk.”
I could spy on everyone by using the mirrors if I stood right here. The triplets were to my right. I could hear them praying. It was “Hail Mary.” What the hell was wrong with Dean?
“Is Snowbird in town?” Rupert asked. Snowbird was a medicine man who sometimes came to visit my family.
“Yeah.” Snowbird had come over the other night. He was blind and had given me and my grandparents some rat root. Where was Severina? I looked at all the booze they had and it was safe to say they had everything, but the bottles were all empty. All of them. All of the bottles had their necks snapped off and broken.
Rupert’s folks had an air hockey table. There were pictures of what looked like Mexico or Hawaii all over the walls. Rupert picked up a TV remote and turned it up a bit. I glanced at the mirrors. The triplets faced straight ahead but their eyes were still closed. I don’t think they knew I was there. They needed to get out. Tony kept glancing our way. There was another wave of hot stink.
Rupert winked at me, trying to signal something I was supposed to understand before nodding towards the triplets. He then looked back at me. “Are you ready to join us?”
“What’s going on?” I asked, acting interested, ready for anything.
Norman emerged from the bathroom. He was holding a large plastic Edmonton Oilers cup filled with something that made him gag. He looked at the triplets, then at Rupert. Norman had the sorriest eyes. Rupert nodded. “Help us,” he whispered before spitting into the cup.
Rupert waved him away. “Hey. We’re chatting.”
Norman nodded. “Okay. Okay.” He left, walking carefully, with his cup. He walked slowly to where the triplets were and knelt before Dean as if he were kneeling in church. Dean sniffed the air and nodded. Norman lifted the plywood over the bucket and poured the contents into the bucket. Flies crawled on the walls and floor and Dean appeared drunk. The triplets looked even more terrified than before. Norman then replaced the plywood, rose carefully to stay away from Dean and walked back to us looking down.
“Can you get Snowbird?” Rupert asked. “Like, could you bring him here?”
I cleared my throat and thought about it. He was stalling for time, I could tell. I didn’t want Snowbird here. He was blind, old.
I glanced in the mirror. It looked like one of the triplets was starting to cry. The other two said something quickly as if to warn her. Dean leaned closer towards them and I saw his throat start to move. I glanced at what Rupert had scribbled. It’s keeping everyone hostage. Rupert wrote: we have to distract it and run. SAVE US PLEASE! IT IS EVIL!
It was like spider eggs burst under my skin and thousands of babies were making their way through me. I questioned him with my eyes and I answered back: What? How can I help?
He wrote: I don’t mean anything I’m saying. Severina’s gone for help. She said for you to stall for time. He wrote: Don’t let it make the sound.
Stall for time? I didn’t understand. I stood. “You said Severina was going to DJ tonight.”
That’s when he took my arm. “Don’t –” I looked at him. His shirt was soaked in sweat. “Don’t go,” he urged. He wrote something else: Dean has something inside of him we have to keep feeding.
I read it and nodded before acting pissed off. “So when does this party start?”
Rupert wrote: We have to get away. He gave me a look that said we had to keep talking, that what was inside Dean was listening. Rupert scribbled furiously: We can’t let it outside.
He nodded before announcing, “We have a gift for you.” He turned on the TV. It was footage of Saddam Hussein being led to where he was about to be hanged. “He likes this. Do you think it was an accident that they released footage of Saddam Hussein being hung?”
Dean gave a throat grunt and turned to watch the screen. It was like he was blind and couldn’t see me. He reached into the bucket and pulled a fistful of meat, blood, and maggots to feed from. Flies burst from the bucket and crawled in his hair before flying around the room. Dean licked all that he held and buried his face in it before eating some, smearing blood all over his jaw and then into his hair. His eyelids fluttered in delight and he made a guttural sound, like he opened his entire throat to receive the slop. I could hear chambers in his throat open as he let out a hot, throaty burp, vomiting everything back into his mouth to chew and chomp it up one more time before swallowing it again. He used his wrist and forearm to wipe most of it away.
My stomach rolled as I tried not to gag. The skin on my back lifted in fear and my legs felt weak. I glanced at the screen. Saddam looked scared, like a little boy. Men in black balaclavas and long trench coats surrounded him and led him towards where he was to be hung by a long yellow rope. My stomach began to roll. One man explained Saddam’s execution to him. He was walking Saddam through what would happen to his throat and neck. Saddam looked around, all business, but deep down I could feel how terrified he was.
Dean vomited everything back into his mouth so he could chew it one more time before swallowing again. It was like he had molars in his throat that could grind it all over again. He grinned. His lower teeth were thick and jagged with points. He started moving his lower jaw back and forth, as if he could saw through bone if given a finger or limb.
What’s inside of him? I wrote.
Rupert wrote quickly: I don’t know but it’s getting stronger. Meat and blood calm it.
I wrote: Is it still Dean?
He shook his head: I don’t know. I’m sorry. I caused this. We caused this by praying. Severina’s getting help.
Rupert’s chin started to quiver. “They say this footage was leaked. But we all know it was to show the world the ultimate victory over him.”
Dean gave a grunt from his chest and spun his head in my direction and began sniffing the air. He looked sick. His face was all boned out. One eye was black, the other bloodshot. Both eyes focused and unfocused on me. He started to shake. He then let out a long call, a growing, deep wail like a big cat, and my face tightened in fear. I became dizzy. I felt my strength – from the inside out – dissolve within me. His shoulders started to shake, and he began to breathe through his teeth while looking at me: “Huff huff huff.” I felt like I was falling inside and steadied myself against the bar. Rupert produced a remote and spoke loudly. “We got Faces of Death and war footage. He likes it.”
All of this was to keep its focus off of us. Stall for time. Stall. “Yes,” I said. “Let’s watch it.”
Dean twisted his head to watch as if I was no longer on his radar. He liked this. As long as we went along with what it wanted, we were safe – for now. I started to feel my strength returning. Chase a wolf with a skidoo until its heart bursts – that’s what this felt like, and I was the wolf. I let my breath out and refocused. That sound was how it claimed people. Its cry paralyzed. Its cry was a weapon. The screen was now a barrage of imagery: grainy footage of soldiers being blown apart or shot in wars from all over the world.
I started to undo my belt under the table. My Tlicho Power belt and buckle would be the weapon to attack and keep it away. Never mind stalling for time, I had to get these girls out of here. We all had to get out of here. I could see Norman and Tony, terrified, but looking at Rupert and me for direction.
Think, I thought. Think this through. Think all of this through.
Rupert scribbled: Can you help me get everyone out?
So it was claiming space through its growing strength and that sound. I couldn’t let it make that sound. Dean started chuckling, watching all this footage. He started laughing and I could see his black gums, his jagged teeth. Wolverine teeth for crushing and pulling. He lifted the plywood off the bucket and scooped out another handful of maggots and blood soup, slurping it in his mouth, spilling more rot stink and flies into the air.
I nodded my head to his request. How could we get to the triplets?
Focus, I thought. I felt cold seep into me. Sensei would tell me to think and focus.
Dean quit eating and tilted his head to listen to us.
I curled my hands into fists and prayed: “Creator, please help us. Whatever this thing is – it’s too strong for just me. We need your mercy here for all of us. Mahsi. Mahsi. Please help us.”
Rupert shook his head at me to indicate that he didn’t mean what he was about to say as he raised his voice so Dean could hear: “He has a brother and a sister wishing to rise.” Dean let out a low rasp to indicate he was pleased with this. He then let out a “glut” sound from his throat as if he was regurgitating the broth of what he’d been chewing. Rupert nodded with worry towards the triplets.
I glanced at the TV. My stomach started to roll when a soldier stepped on another soldier’s skull and produced a knife while the downed soldier started to beg. I looked away, winced. Dean started cackling from deep within his chest and he picked up a bottle of Captain Morgan, and stuck the whole bottle in his mouth. He wrapped his lips around the bottle, clenched his teeth around the neck and tilted back. He started to drain the bottle in throaty gulps before chewing on the glass. He dropped the bottle when it was done and he kicked it away. He started panting again, looking at the triplets. They were crying now, holding hands and crying. Froth started to bubble out of Dean’s mouth all over his shirt. Wait, I thought. This is rabies. I read about this.
Godless But Loyal To Heaven Page 2