“Don’t you worry, Torchy,” Jeremiah said. “Before the day is out, you’ll know where your brother is buried. I knew to bury him with his feet closest to the cross. Dogribs believe this way your spirit can pull itself up, use those arms on the cross like a ladder and pull yourself up to the sky.”
I looked at him. He was being serious. “I wouldn’t desecrate a grave, Torchy,” he said solemnly. “I buried your brother right. Fight this fight today and we’ll call it even. And you may even make some cash.” He looked at me and grinned.
I shook my head. “I’ll fight all right,” I said. “But you’re going to regret ever touching my brother’s body.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “And you’re going to regret making a fool out of me and the mayor. And Arnie here is gonna put the dog bite on you.”
At that, Arnie the Inuk started barking like a dog into my ear. “Arr Arr Arrrr!” Nothing out of the Pollywog. Once again, he wasn’t too thrilled about being second place.
I just stared ahead and shook my head. “Fuck, you’re dumb,” I said to them all.
The Pollywog was an interesting case. Country was in training to fight at the UFC. His dad was always flying him out for various training camps. Judging from the cauliflower ears that were swollen and purple, and seeing at least twenty pounds of new muscle, they must have been honing him to be a modern-day gladiator. Country used to scrap all the time growing up and he was a beast. He and his heavy hands have never been put down. And that’s his claim to fame. I know he wanted to down me. Word was out two summers ago he was gonna try, but he never came for me. Lord knows, I trained even harder just in case. But ever since he started his training, he quit fighting in town and that said a lot. That said he was turning pro and he wouldn’t waste a split knuckle on a local boy’s tooth and risk infection or a criminal record. They say he got his hands registered as lethal weapons, but that had to be gossip. Still, I had to be wary of him. He kicked the Horflet boy so hard his heart moved to the other side of his chest. And that was a few years ago outside the Terminal.
We made our way out to the back road that would lead us to the old racetrack. The men were quiet and I shook my head. I took a big breath and let it out. I needed to think. My head was under attack still from what happened at the bar. So Charity was pregnant. Wouldn’t that be something if that baby was Lester’s and that was what set her free? It was her choice now. I’d given her a window to get away.
I closed my eyes and took another deep breath. I had to watch their range, I thought. Dangerous hands. Dangerous reach. I had to watch it, but all I really wanted to do was sleep. I did the thing where I clear my head and start a new feeling, and the feeling I chose was quiet.
It was August. Sfen was now buried in town. Moose and caribou antlers would be in velvet. You listen to the old man and you learn new things every day: next month was the moon when the geese flew. This is the moon when wolf pups that are too small get left behind by their packs. The bigger ones leave with the adults to learn how to hunt and track. The ones who were too little would be left behind to die. We dropped tobacco for them just two days ago. And this was the moon when the bison did the same. Mothers and calves began the long haul towards the winter ranges. Their lives are braided –
“You know, Torchy,” Jeremiah said, “Lester’s in a better place.”
“Fuck off,” I said.
“It’s a shame Lester fought so hard. The boy suffered…” I shook my head.
“I suppose you got your information on the subdivision from him, hey?”
“None of your business.”
“Well, he’s wrong. We moved those rocks.”
“Then you’ll die too,” I said. “Eaten alive by cancer. Good.”
Country made a move to punch me, but Jeremiah raised his hand. “Hey, Torchy,” Jeremiah said. “There’s no need to talk like that. Now I found your brother’s body and I put it in the graveyard for you.”
“Fuck you!” I said. “You should have left him.”
“For what – the wolves? They’d been trying to get him,” he said. “And I couldn’t let that happen. What did you do? You left him out there alone in an unmarked grave. Why? Ashamed he killed himself? Or did you blow his head off for him?”
Before I could hit him, Country got me in a full nelson and started squeezing the air out of my head. I couldn’t breathe and stars started popping around my eyes. They bugged and my arms started to tingle.
“Now look,” Jeremiah said. “I’ll tell you where I buried him once you do this. Win or lose. I’m not such a bad guy.” He patted his breast pocket. “I’ve drawn out a map of the graveyard and I’ve marked out where we put him.”
I was getting ready to pass out when Jeremiah said, “Let him go, son. He’ll need all his strength to take you on.”
Country let me go and slammed my head into the dashboard. The stars were swirling and I leaned hard against the window. I blinked away the protozoas of light I saw in front of me and felt the TB enzymes take hold of my weakness.
Jeremiah smiled. “You’re probably wondering where the Big Dance is happening, hey? Well, it’s at the old racetrack,” he said. “We got her nice and pretty for you.”
I rolled my eyes and took a big breath, filling my lungs with shitty air. The Big Dance? I could feel the Inuk watching me. If I could keep getting his adrenaline to dump, I could get it to backfire, tucker him out before we got there. Jeremiah glanced in the rear-view and spoke: “The rules are genius really. You take on my boy Arnie here, you get five grand. You take on him and the squad, you get ten grand. Either way, I’ll tell you where I buried your brother.”
I dry swallowed and rubbed my head. “Any rules I should be aware of?”
He shrugged. “Once you’re out of the circle we’ve painted on the ground, you’re out. If you beat my boys and leave, I don’t owe you a penny. It’s gotta be every man out before you collect.”
I glared at the Inuk. “So that means this is all or nothing. I thought I’d get five grand by beating the Squad and then five for beating the champ here.”
Jeremiah shrugged. “Rules changed, I guess. All or nothing. No stand-stills, either.”
I was quiet. It was going to either get really bloody or really dirty, and I didn’t want to bleed today. Bloody fights were the worst cuz you could be downing them forever with lupus in the blood or Hep. I nodded. “Anything else?”
“Boss,” the Inuk said. “No belts.” I sat up. Shit –
“Torchy’s rigged his so he can whip it out fast and none of the boys wear any.”
The Bullfrog looked in the rear-view and smiled. “No belts, Torchy.” I looked at the Inuk and he flexed his muscles.
“That’s okay, fucker,” I said and undid the button on top of my fly. “You got your weapons. I got mine.” Shit, I thought. I was weak, tired, and pissed off. I didn’t have a chance in Hell. What would a sick wolf do?
As we took the small road to the old racetrack, I saw trucks and cars parked alongside the road. There must have been thirty vehicles at least. People were walking towards the racetrack or climbing Panty Point, a rise above the racetrack you could look down from. There in the ditch were little old ladies and their grandkids with empty ice cream buckets picking berries.
Then I heard the music blaring. As we got closer, I rolled down the window to hear it. Jeremiah and his son started to giggle when it became clear. It was the Rocky soundtrack blaring away. “Na na na! Na na naaa.”
“Christ,” I thought and looked at Jeremiah. “Are you selling tickets for this?”
He smiled and shook his head. “It’s free, but if you want to bet you can.”
“You’re gonna lose today,” Country said. “Ten thousand dollars says so.”
“The dog bite’s comin’,” Arnie whispered.
“Take it fuckin’ easy,” I said. Jeremiah got his Suburban as close
to Panty Point as he could and then he had to park. I got out and stood in the sun.
Immediately, townies walked by me and nodded. “Good luck, Torchy.”
“Good luck.”
“Man up. You can do ’er!”
“Give ’er!” I looked away. I watched the little old ladies in the ditches picking berries with their grandkids. I thought maybe when this was over we could do the same with Steph.
And then along came Andy, the fire chief, and his wife. Time was catching up on Andy but he was still dyeing his hair black. “Howdy, Torchy,” he said and shook my hand.
“Howdy,” I said.
“This is Terese,” he said. “My wife.”
Terese stood with a beer in her hand and a lit smoke in the other. “Hi.”
When we were kids, Andy used to come over after midnight and pick Sfen up and cruise for hours. Andy hired Sfen to paint a flame job on his truck and he did. It took a few weeks and it was gorgeous to see the flames grow and grow. The flames licked all the way up to the windshield on the front hood and sides. Andy had an airbrush system in his shop at the college, and Sfen started coming home later and later. This was when Andy was married to June. I’d wait up for Sfen for as long as I could, but I’d always fall asleep on the couch.
I caught them once and that was when I was raking leaves. I come around the back of the house and they were locked up with their tongues hollowing each other’s mouths out. Their eyes were closed and Andy’s hands were down the front of Sfen’s pants. “Whoah,” I said out loud and they stopped. Andy pulled his hands out of Sfen’s pants so fast and pushed my brother away. I dropped the rake and walked back into the house.
Sfen and I never talked about it but three days later I come home to find Sfen crying in the tub with a straight razor on the ledge. Fuck, I beat Sfen bad. That was the second time I caught him trying to kill himself and I let him have it good. There he was, naked, crying in the bathroom and I started slapping him across the head.
“What the fuck?” I asked when I seen what he was gonna do. I flew towards Sfen and pulled him out of the water. “You gonna leave me all alone, huh, Sfen? After all we been through?”
“Stop it,” he said, not even defending himself. “Leave me alone.”
“You’re my big brother, goddamnit. You’re gonna end it over Andy?”
“‘He doesn’t love me,” he sobbed.
I cuffed him hard. “So what? He’s fuckin’ married, you gaylord.”
Sfen covered his head. “Why? Why doesn’t he want me anymore?”
I yelled, “Cuz I caught you homo’ing out, that’s why. He’s worried I’m gonna tell and his ol’ lady’s gonna find out!”
Sfen looked at me. “What am I gonna do, Torchy?” he asked and started crying so helplessly. I looked at him with disgust. My big brother crying, naked.
I handed him a towel. “Don’t kill yourself over Andy. You’ll find someone, Sfen. I promise you will.” Sfen covered his face and sobbed. I wrapped the towel around him.
When he wouldn’t stop crying, I hung my head. “Fuck sakes, Sfen. For fuck sakes. Don’t you ever kill yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“You’re all I have,” I said. And then he started crying some more.
“Come on,” I said. “Aren’t we going to Hawaii?” Sfen pressed his palms into his eyes.
“Come on,” I said. “You promised. And what does the Bible say about that, huh? You’re always reading the Bible. What does it say?” He shook his head.
“And, fuck sakes, you promised since you were ten that we’d go to Hawaii and swim with the dolphins and those fuckin’ turtles. Fuck, you’re the one who told me those manta rays got the faces of bears. We were supposed to have them fly over us underwater and look up together, ’member?” My voice choked and I got tears. He nodded.
“That’s right. You promised we’d go there and get tattoos, too.”
He nodded and smiled. “I promised.”
I led my brother to his room, helped him lie down, sat with him all afternoon and talked to him. That night I cooked up some soup and toast and rented Heat, cheered him up, and Andy never showed his face around our house again. But every once in a while, when he was drinking, he’d call the house for Sfen. I’m sure he got through when I wasn’t around, but I’d hang up when he’d ask, “Is your brother home?”
I looked at Andy and his wife and he could tell what I was thinking. He swallowed hard, afraid I’d tell on him. “Good day for a rumble,” he said. I looked ahead and nodded, worried my eyes would show my concern. “They been clearing this racetrack for days,” he said.
I nodded. “How’d you hear about it?”
He looked at his wife. “Word’s been out for days,” he said. “We got family come in from Hay River. Why don’t you see if they’re here, hun?”
Terese looked at him and smiled. She looked at me and took a sip of her beer. “We bet on you,” she said and put her hand on my shoulder. “Good luck.” I nodded. She walked up the hill.
“They say there’s an old bear around here,” Andy said and pointed west. “He lives here all alone.”
“No mate?” I asked.
“No mate,” he said. “Maybe he’ll give you strength.”
I looked at the bush. “Maybe.” That bear’d be on the clock: looking for a den, trying to get fat. I thought of Snowbird. “Can I bum two smokes?” I asked.
“Sure,” he patted his breast pocket and pulled two out. “How’s your brother? Is he still in the city?” I looked at Andy and I saw a lonesome man. Even with Terese he was still lonely.
“Yeah,” I said. “He’s got a good job. He’s in love.”
Andy was shocked. “Really?”
“Yup,” I said. And that was like a bullet to him. I saw all of him in a second: hunger, disappointment. Andy hung his head and swallowed hard.
“I gotta go,” I said and made my way up the hill. Think like a wolf….
Gunner was standing outside Snowbird’s. I had to do this. I thought of that old bear and decided to pray to him. He was probably watching, sleepy but starving.
“Sah,” I said in Dogrib. “I got Super Grover arms and I cannot even connect with authority like I used to. Please give me an edge. Please. I’m open to attack on all sides. These are mean men and they’re making me fight for my family and for money. Just give me an edge. Anything. Now is a time for tombstone courage. Please help me. I honour you with this pitiful offering in all of your grace. Help me and my family.” And I laid the two cigarettes at the base of some yarrow to bless the earth before us. The fighting ground. The proving ground. The earth Sfen and I crossed to go hunting ptarmigan in the winter.
I touched the earth for Sfen.
I touched the earth for my mom.
I touched the earth for Lester.
I touched the earth for Snowbird and Stephanie. I stood up, took a big breath. This was going to be a hyena war.
Ever since they started handing out mikes to the human gorillas on WWF and WWE, everyone had to make a speech up north before going toe to toe. Outside the bars, out at the bush parties, out at the landslide, everybody had to make a speech. Right now, the Bullfrog was making a speech to pretty near half the town with a whole pile of guests from Hay River and Smith. There were even trucks pulled up that had Alberta licence plates.
This must have taken some time. Someone had mowed the grass in the middle of the racetrack while somebody had spray-painted a circle in fluorescent orange that was actually pretty small. I thought it would be bigger so I couldn’t keep running, but it was actually a good fightin’ one. It would be close quarters. That used to be my advantage: dirty boxing.
Jeremiah had rigged up a wireless mike to two huge speakers he had on the tail of his truck. They hummed and popped when he spoke and they were loud. I spotted the walkie-talkie hanging of
f his hip, the one that linked him to Gunner who was standing outside Snowbird’s.
“All right, folks! Welcome to the Big Dance!” He smiled. “We got a local legend here today. Fort Simmer’s very own, Torchy.” There was applause. A lot of folks stood outside the circle while some folks brought lawn chairs. A small breeze kept the bugs away and the sun was high in the trees.
“I’m sure you know that Torchy has a record of twenty-two knock outs. This man has never been defeated. Not yet. The same goes for my son, my boy!” The crowd cheered. “Fort Simmer’s very own and UFC hopeful: Country!” The Smith Squad didn’t look too confident with the news that Country was going to fight, as well, and this could be used to my advantage. Twenty-two knock outs? Wow. The truth was I’d only knocked out eight men, but that was Simmer for you: a gossipy garden ripe with hyperbole. To my shame, Lester was my first K.O., and I had no idea how I was going to knock anyone out today.
Jeremiah bellowed, “The last man standing in this circle gets ten grand! So it’s every man for himself.”
Four members of the Smith Squad were walking around with bags and boxes, writing down bets and chatting with the crowd. The Inuk, who was by far the most dangerous, stood in the centre of the circle, glaring at me. I should have said “No rings” as a rule, but it was too late.
Country pointed at me and made the motion of snapping something huge in half. Shit. He was a little slow in the eyes but don’t you believe it, not for a heartbeat. Those eyes were a gateway to something cruel and calculating. He loved to issue misery with those fists and his eyes had the same look of fascination you see in boys torturing ants with fire or pulling the wings off of flies. He loved to break men down and right now he was grinning, smiling at me.
The others were just a ragtag of what-could-have-beens. They’d be easy. No problem. In fact they were all torqued up – chain-smoking, too – and that would catch up with them fast when we squared off. Time was my ally here because the longer we waited, the heavier their bodies would feel when we got to it. Their legs would feel like lead and their arms would feel like they were underwater, and I’d do the fuckin’ water dance on their heads because I was the master of my adrenaline. My meds helped with that. I had impulse control like never before because of my meds, and the thing I noticed was the Inuk never warned them about my nails. He wasn’t a team player and was looking out for himself. He wanted that ten grand and wasn’t about to share.
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