The entire time Liz was explaining the day, Tye had been looking at the Wall. Shelley’s rendition of William, William’s boat, three dogs, a dream catcher, what might have been a portrait of Brad Pitt, and a plethora of barely recognizable images. And, of course, the Horse, around which all the others seem to be orbiting. But he said nothing.
“Tye?”
“You know …,” he said slowly, “… there’s a reason most people don’t let kids draw on their kitchen walls.”
The smile on Liz’s face began to fade. “You don’t —”
“I mean really, Liz. You want our kitchen to look like this? Some of the places I drive through, this kind of stuff is sprayed on city walls everywhere. And you want to put it in our kitchen? I don’t get it.”
“But the Horse?”
“Danielle Gaadaw drew that? Seriously? Did you see her do it?”
This was not going the way Liz had expected. Now she was feeling defensive about something that not that long ago had taken her breath away. “No. I was shopping. Ralph says he saw her do some of it. As she was finishing it.”
“I think they’re putting you on, Liz.” Poor Liz, always gullible, it seemed to Tye.
For Liz, the Wall was an entryway for the imagination, but it helped if you had an imagination. Before his career as a truck driver, Tye’s understanding of geography had consisted primarily of knowing what cities NHL hockey teams and their farm agencies came from. He loved and adored his wife, but men like Tye didn’t really care about what could be; he was too busy dealing with what was.
“The kids like it,” Liz responded defensively.
At that moment, the door opened and three bundles of Indigenous youth stormed in the room, two directly into Tye’s arms. “Dad!”
When they’d seen their dad’s truck, Ralph and Shelley had thrust their books into William’s hands and raced in through the door. William felt a little awkward, putting the books on the table as the family reunion took place. Taking his eyes off the Thomas family, he once again looked at the Horse. It looked back at him, almost taunting him, which he found unnerving.
“I was wondering where you guys were! I thought maybe you found another father or something.”
Denials filled the kitchen as Tye half wrestled with his kids. William noticed a slight look of sternness on Liz Thomas’s face. Life in his difficult house had taught him to read people, and he knew that look. But he seldom saw it within these four walls. “Did you see the Horse? Did you?” asked Ralph.
Their father’s mood changed. “Yes, I did. It’s very good.”
“Good?! It’s amazing!”
“Let’s talk about it later. I think dinner’s going to be a little late. Come on, let’s go in the living room and you can fill me in on your week. You, too, William.”
Instantly William was in the other room. Liz could hear Ralph excitedly asking his father, “Did you bring us anything fun?”
“From Brandon?!”
Liz remained alone in the kitchen. She had hoped that somewhere in her husband’s experiences and soul existed a small part that could relate to the Everything Wall and, just maybe, the Horse. It didn’t look like it. Part of her big fear was that maybe, someday, Ralph’s interests might begin drifting towards Tye’s universe. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the big guy, it was just that his universe extended only so far. There were borders, like that on the reserve. And his universe didn’t include flights of fancy.
Almost forlornly, Liz found herself standing in front of the Horse, sharing her ideas.
“I wish he could see you.”
LATER, DURING DINNER, as he told an interesting story about almost hitting a moose on the highway, Tye noticed the three kids frequently looking over their shoulders at the Horse, their attention drifting away a few minutes at a time. The head swivelling became annoying in a remarkably short period of time.
“Hey, are we having dinner in our house or some art gallery? Eyes on the table.” All three quickly complied. “That Horse will still be there after we eat.”
“Dad! You should draw something!”
“Yeah.” A momentous occasion, as Shelley seldom agreed with Ralph on anything. Seems the arrival of the Horse held many advantages for the Thomases. Now it was Tye’s turn to look over his shoulder at the Wall.
“Kids, I’ve done karaoke, I’ve danced at a few weddings, even did one of those eulogies at my father’s funeral, but there are several things I cannot and quite probably will not ever do in the artsy world, and one is draw a picture of anything. My talents lie elsewhere. I’d like to see that Rembrandt fellow drive my big rig in reverse, or Da Vinci figure out how to shift my twelve gears.” All three kids laughed. Liz dutifully ate her scalloped potatoes, choosing wisely not to comment.
Tye looked at the image again, sizing it up, trying to put a label on it other than a picture drawn by small, skinny, weird girl who lived over in the non-status part of the community. Horses like that did not come from such beings. Just before dinner, the three youngsters had meticulously gone through the three books they’d brought home from the library, looking for anything that might give them a clue as to who or what the Horse was, or even where in the world it could have come from. There were plenty of equine representations in those books, but nothing that quite matched the majesty of what was drawn on the Everything Wall. What was most amazing to Tye was the fact that, other than the occasional squabble, Shelley and William almost seemed to be getting along. Almost.
And it was the sister who’d suggested that they broaden their investigation. They were looking at pictures of real horses. Maybe they should look at artistic illustrations of horses. Both Ralph and William agreed this was a good idea. Seldom had Tye seen such joint focus in the three kids. On the surface he liked it, but as with all change, it did elicit some concern.
“You saw her draw this?” Tye asked this as he put more salt on his potatoes. His wife never put nearly enough on.
Liz put her fork down. “Tye —”
“Just trying to get a better context of what’s going on. That’s all. Well, Ralph, did you? Did any of you?”
For a brief second, all three kids looked at each other before Ralph spoke. “Just the finishing touches. It was almost completely done when we came out here.”
“Then how do you know it was her?”
Once again, Liz uttered her husband’s name. “Tye!”
“Come on, Liz. You can’t tell me you’re not a little bit curious. Does that look like a ten-year-old could draw it? Well, how can you be positive that” — he pointed to the Wall — “came from her?”
This was a line of questioning that took the three kids by surprise. It had not occurred to them that what they believed might not be. Liz could see her kids wrestling with the dilemma set before them by their father. But before she could intercede, Ralph spoke up after quickly glancing at the Horse. “She was the only one here. In the kitchen. Shelley let her in.”
Then his sister took the baton. “I gave her the chalk. And we saw her start. Right at the beginning, but we were playing cards and forgot about her. We didn’t hear anybody else come in.”
“Besides.” Now it was William’s turn to speak. “Who else would draw that? Could draw that? Nobody I know. If I drew that, I’d want everybody to know. Mr. Thomas, I didn’t see her actually put that Horse up there, but I am pretty sure it was her. Don’t know of a lot of crooks running around, breaking into houses to draw horses on the wall. If so, that’s kind of sad.”
Liz tried to put her last piece of Shake ’n’ Bake pork chop in her mouth, but it was rather difficult as her mouth was currently otherwise occupied with a broad and proud smile beaming across the table. The three kids, whose combined ages didn’t add up to her husband’s, had presented a logical and moderately impassioned argument.
Tye didn’t dare look at his wife. His chop taste
d too much like crow.
A FEW HOURS later, Tye came out of the bathroom, a dab of toothpaste on his left cheek. Liz was waiting, still carrying traces of that earlier smile. “Well?”
Tye stopped in his tracks, taking his T-shirt off. “I know better than to ask ‘Well what?’ This is about your Anything Wall, right?”
“Everything Wall, you stupid truck driver. You know that very well. I want it to stay, at least for a while. I know kids, especially ours, and they will probably get tired of it in a few weeks, maybe a month or two, but until then —”
“You realize it’s just a form of domestic graffiti. Most parents go out of their way to prevent their kids from drawing on walls. Especially at their age.”
“I will never say no to my kids.”
“Don’t they have an art class at school? Let them draw on the walls there.”
Silence found its way into the Thomas bedroom. Liz looked out the window, even though it was late and utterly black outside. “Tye. I want to keep the Everything Wall.”
Weary after three weeks on the road and four hours dealing with his wife’s current obsession, Tye had little energy left. Once again, the door slammed shut on what was logical and made sense, just to make his wife happy.
“Yeah, sure.” He sat on the bed.
“The kids love it.”
“I got that impression.”
“It fosters creativity.”
“Yay.” The man slid into bed beside his wife and turned out the light on his night table.
“Tye, you really don’t think there’s something special about that Horse?”
In the darkness, there was a sigh. “Liz, I don’t know much about art, horses, or that Gaadaw kid. If you say it’s special, I believe you. I met a driver in Vancouver once whose son could play six or seven games of chess all at the same time. Amazing to watch, but after a while it wore off and life continued.”
Liz’s voice cut through the darkness. “How horrible.”
“What? Life continuing?”
A pillow across Tye’s face prevented further conversation.
FINDING DANIELLE AT lunch the next day wasn’t that difficult. She was eating a bag of chips near the parking lot, alone as usual, basically occupying time and space until there was someplace else to go, something to do. That’s where Shelley and Ralph made a quick survey of the playground and located her from across the field. Danielle gave them a shy smile as they came closer, once again hesitant to meet their eyes. She noticed a large paper bag in Shelley’s hand.
“Hey, Danielle,” said Shelley.
“Hi,” added Ralph.
Danielle smiled, and both siblings could see her saying the word “Hi” but so softly neither of them actually heard it. All three felt uncomfortable at the atypical nature of the conversation. Under normal circumstances, none of them would have a reason to participate in a drawn-out conversation, being in different grades and from different parts of the reserve. Contrary to popular belief, Native communities have many of the same social classes as communities off the reserve, especially when it comes to the complex world of school and its various hierarchies. Colonization had its fingers in all the pies on the reserve.
Shelley cleared her throat. “That was just an amazing horse you drew yesterday. Totally amazing. Wasn’t it, Ralph?”
He nodded in agreement, looking for something to add. “You should be very proud.” Ralph suddenly realized he had just sounded like his mother. He made a mental note not to sound like that again.
Not really knowing Ralph’s mother, the young girl didn’t notice, only shrugging at the compliment. She ate another chip, finding the ground in front of her seemingly very interesting.
“Mom says you can come over any time you want, if you want. So do we.”
“Thank you.” This time both heard it, though again it was barely above a whisper.
“Oh, and we have this for you.” Shelley held out the paper bag with something moderately heavy in it. She waited for Danielle to take it. Even more nervous, and not used to this much attention, Danielle took the bag hesitantly, its weight taking her by surprise. It was obvious to brother and sister what she wanted to ask but didn’t have the self-confidence to utter.
“It’s your present, like an award. For winning the Everything Wall contest. It’s from our mother.” Ralph nodded in agreement with his sister. “She went and got it first thing this morning. There was nobody even close to what you did on the Wall.”
“I think William was a little annoyed.”
“Yeah, but nobody cares. Take a look, Danielle. It’s for you.”
Lowering the bag onto the hood of a nearby Honda Prelude, Danielle nervously reached in and pulled out a large, weighty picture book. She smiled as she saw what the subject matter of the book was. “Look, horses. Lots of horse pictures.” She immediately started leafing through the glossy pages, her attention focused. “Thank you.”
“Do you ever say anything other than ‘thank you’?” asked Ralph, half jokingly. Deep into her book, Danielle didn’t respond. Instead, she flipped another page, then another, her eyes taking in all the different images of horses. Briefly it reminded the two of the previous evening, watching her cross back and forth into this other world she seemed to prefer. Shelley and Ralph stood there in the parking lot for a moment, watching her, not knowing what else to say. It felt like they had been forgotten.
“Um … well …” Shelley looked at Ralph.
“I guess we should be going.” Again there was no response from Danielle. It seemed Ralph and Shelley’s existence in her world had been replaced by the photographed horses. The little girl had climbed into the book. Danielle sat down on a red railing that bordered the parking area and rested the big book on her lap. She didn’t feel the cold wind, her wet boot, or anything else. Danielle touched one of the photos, horses running along a beach, ocean spray angling up in a V shape on either side. To Ralph it seemed she was no doubt imagining wonderful things.
“Bye, Danielle.” Ralph waited for a reaction, but there was none. Shelley managed a half-hearted wave, again with no reaction. All they saw was the top of Danielle’s head. Slowly, Ralph and his sister turned back to the school and started walking.
“That is one strange puppy,” commented Shelley.
“I guess she just likes horses.”
Mission accomplished, they both disappeared into the crowded playground, going their separate ways.
Halfway across the playground, near the swings, William watched them give the little girl the prize book. He was not very happy. That book should have been his. This was so unfair, he thought. She was some little freak, both in what she was and what she could do. William didn’t like things that were unfair, or freaks for that matter. What had once seemed a fabulous thing, the Everything Wall, now appeared to make William’s life less enjoyable.
Their task finished, the temporary merging of grades and classes came to an abrupt end. Shelley returned to where Vanessa and Julia were hanging out. Ralph made his way to William. He had offered to let him join the brother and sister in presenting Danielle with her prize, but for his own reasons, William had been disinclined. But now there was time to do something fun with his friend during what was left of the recess. William waited as Ralph approached.
“Well, was she weird?”
Ralph had to admit she was. “Yeah, a little.”
Trying to shake thoughts of the girl and that stupid Horse of hers from his mind, William started to walk towards the school, urging Ralph to follow. “Come on, Gary and Mitchell have built some kind of snow fort. Let’s go check it out.” And, as had been the case for as long as they could remember, Ralph followed wherever William led.
SHORTLY AFTER, THINGS returned to normal. Another cold snap came, banishing the rain, replacing it with bitingly low temperatures that left a hard crust on top of the fields of sno
w and, more dangerously, icy roads. Shelley had resumed referring to Ralph’s best friend as It, yet continued to play cards with him in these days of inclement weather. The world was indeed a contradictory place, and the Thomas house in Otter Lake was sometimes at its apex.
During his time off the road, his down time, his domestic time, Tye was busy shovelling new snow and fixing the storm windows the season had found wanting. In addition to his household chores, he had a brother and two sisters he had to catch up with. His next foray onto the Canadian highways wasn’t for another week and a half, so he planned to get as much done as was humanly possible. This was his usual routine — sitting in the cab of his truck for ten hours a day, followed by ten hours in various hotels and motels for weeks at a time. Repeat as necessary. Then back to the reserve and doing all the things that make a house a home in as short a period of time as possible.
As for Liz, she had her own set of priorities. The purchase of the book of horses had been, she thought, an inspired idea for Danielle Gaadaw. The prize reflected the girl’s art and, she hoped, her interests. But it was a new week and, amongst her other chores, the maintenance of the Everything Wall loomed large. It had to be washed and cleaned for the next infusion of imaginary creations that would flood into their house — starting that very day, Tuesday. Liz would wash all the children’s work, except for the Horse, as had been agreed, even through William’s gritted teeth. The animal would be left proudly occupying its niche in the Thomas kitchen, where it had spent the last two days watching the Thomas family prepare and eat their breakfast and dinner. Frequently there would be some arguing, laughing, and the occasional song would suddenly erupt, filling the room. Generally, it observed existence pass through this example of government housing.
Chasing Painted Horses Page 8