They were all serious as they listened, and the silence after Terry stopped talking became uncomfortable. Melissa patted her arm, saying, “Tell us what the RCMP have found out.”
“Well, they found the stolen truck burning at a hotel in Jasper, too bad for the guy they stole it from. He wasn’t hurt though. They just pushed him over the edge of the road, it was steep there, and took off in the truck. Those guys didn’t know anything about commercial vehicles. Both of them tried to use first gear to start off.” She shrugged. “I think if I hadn’t been so disoriented from being knocked out with starting fluid, I could have got away a lot sooner.”
As more details came out, they began to ask questions, and by the time Terry had told them the whole story, Jason and his date had returned with the food, though they had forgotten the sour cream and steak spice from Melissa’ list.
The potatoes went on the grill, and Melissa made do with the steak spice she had, and asked politely if Jason would go to town for sour cream and a few more things. Jason, happy to oblige, was in another world and had no idea he had forgotten anything.
Chapter 19
The short version of Terry’s story proved to be a catalyst for the most open and comfortable conversation the Banks Mountain crew had experienced together. Seeing Pete looking better, showing the kids his stitches while enjoying lobster tails, was good for morale.
The meal in the huge building was memorable, big grill smoking, tended by Johnny and Isaac who were glad to stand under the exhaust fan near the grill, as yes indeed, the three-bean salad was back as promised. Crimson lobsters came steaming from giant propane-fired pots, and as Melissa had planned, there was no shortage of food.
Melissa banged on a table until everyone was seated, and then asked if someone would say grace. Johnny was surprised when Frank stood up and said he would be glad to, removing his hat.
“God, we thank you for this day, and for keeping Pete and Terry from serious harm. Thank you for the feast the Banks have provided, and please bless them for their generosity. We pray this in your name, amen.” There were a few scattered amens as Frank sat down, and Chet waved a soft drink around and told them all to dig in.
While serving up the thick, juicy steaks, Johnny watched Melissa sitting with a bunch of small kids at a low table, teaching them how to extract lobster meat out of the shell and dip it in garlic butter. A little girl held up a large piece she had successfully extricated by herself. Face shiny with butter, she declared, “Lobthter ith even better than ham!” and with a big smile, double dipped the morsel and shoved it in her mouth.
Johnny noticed Mary watching him, and grinned at her, nodding toward the little kids and offering her a choice piece, “You just shut up and eat some lobthter too”, he said.
When everyone was full, Melissa recruited Jason, date in tow, to start a movie for the excited younger kids to watch. The troop of children followed them, crowding into the lunchroom to watch a cartoon on the media equipment normally used for safety demonstrations.
When they were happily engaged, and Jason back with another loaded plate, Chet asked Terry to share the full story of her experience. She spoke well and had everyone’s undivided attention as she relayed the story. Isaac interrupted a few times with questions that highlighted the details of bravery that Terry’s short version hadn’t covered.
When Terry had finished, and received a lot of hugs from the women, Chet rattled off a short, heartfelt speech about the Banks Mountain crew being like a family, and how he was proud to see them caring about each other. He congratulated Terry on her quick thinking and made a few comments on using initiative in emergency situations.
Chet now turned his attention to the older kids still in the room.
“You kids have heard something important today. I hope you will never be in such a position where you need to defend yourself like Terry did, but,” here he paused, “if you ever do, remember to use whatever is at hand. And”, he stabbed a thick finger at them, “I hope you have learned something about helping those who need help. Like the lady who stopped to give Terry a ride.”
He pointed again at the attentive audience. “And I know you can imagine how safe Terry felt sitting in that warm pickup with a kind person. You kids need to grow up to be people who help other people when they can’t help themselves.”
Mary started clapping, and the rest joined her. Chet was flushed by the effort of speaking in front of the whole crew, but when the applause was over, soldiered on.
“I’m going to donate a load of logs for firewood.” He named a group in their community who helped the elderly. “I’ll be bringing a load to the yard real soon, and next time a processor is in the yard “I’ll cut it into stove lengths. He jabbed his finger at the dozen kids in the audience. “And I’d like you guys to give me a hand, and any of your parents who want to help, and we will deliver pickup loads of firewood to some of the older people living out in the boonies who could use a little help before Christmas. What do you say, I got some helpers?”
There was a tentative nod or two, and Jason burst out with, “Well I’ll sure give a hand!” caught up in the moment. A girl in her early teens, who thought Jason was cute and appeared jealous that he seemed to have a girlfriend, raised her hand and said she would like to help, and then there was a flood of positive response from the rest, including many of the adults.
Chet raised a hand and went on. “I know it might seem we are, well,” he paused, searching for the words, “sort of in a feel-good situation, relieved Terry and Pete are okay, but I think it’s time we pay it forward, so how does next Saturday sound?” There were a few more cheers.
“Wow,” Johnny said quietly to his wife, “he doesn’t waste any time, does he?” He leaned closer to her ear. “What do you say, shall we get right in there too?”
She squeezed his big arm. “Absolutely, sounds like a date!”
The younger kids were still engrossed and the giggles from the lunchroom brought smiles to their mothers’ faces. The older kids headed outside to look at a new snowmobile on the back of someone’s pickup, and the adults tackled the issue on everyone’s mind.
Terry started. “I really don’t know if this is over or not. The RCMP haven’t found anything yet, like why these people came after me. I recognized one of the guys as someone who was a friend of an acquaintance from Alberta.” She cleared her throat, then said, “This acquaintance, Joseph, who said he was from Toronto, seemed to be friends with one of my attackers. I saw them together a few different times. Then, one night in a steakhouse, Joseph asked me to take some meat in a cooler down to his brother. Well, I assumed it was his brother, he actually said ‘bro’”. I didn’t really want to do it, but he had given me Stampede tickets, so I told him to throw it in the truck. The problem was that when ‘the bro’ came to pick it up, he obviously wasn’t related, and he had a cooler with some frozen geese in it that he wanted taken up to Joseph.
“I made that run, and even though Joseph acted surprised I brought him a cooler from his friend. He had his Jeep parked right in the loading docks where no one in their right mind would park their car, and pretty much grabbed the cooler and took off.”
Isaac made a comment about truckers not being able to back up safely, but was ignored, and Terry continued.
“Everything seemed wrong. Joseph was more of a city guy, not a hunter, actually seems like he is from another country.”
She was cut off when Isaac drawled, “Toronto is another country,” scoring some laughter from the rural, western Canadians. They had their own opinions of Canada’s largest city and the unfamiliar province of Ontario.
Terry smiled and kept talking. “The next morning when I headed south loaded, I called my boss and let him know I was quitting when I got back to Calgary.”
She took a sip of coffee, then continued the story, everyone leaning forward to hear. “I figured, hey, I didn’t need to get involved in something illegal, and just had a bad feeling about it. I planned to spend a couple week
s with my family, and then look for a job somewhere else.”
Terry smiled at Chet, then Melissa. “Then I saw their ad, and I quote: ‘Smart trucker needed right now to haul logs.’ Figured this sounded like me, made a call, got hired, and here I am.”
Isaac whistled, “Sounds like you made a good choice, but someone tracked you down pretty quick, eh? Think these guys are smuggling drugs or something?”
“I have no clue, but I do know that one or maybe two of them will have headaches worse than Pete’s right now. The guy named Blake probably has a black eye, both probably needed some stitches,” Terry said. “They would be easy for the police to spot, from the description I have given. Plus, the guy who they stole the truck from saw them pretty well in the headlights.”
The furnace kicked on loudly as everyone waited for Terry to go on, and Isaac walked over and turned off the noisy exhaust fan above the grill.
“I would assume they were involved with this Joseph guy. The RCMP are looking for him, and they should be able to find him pretty easily.”
Chet spoke up. “Terry doesn’t want to hide. She wants to keep working, and I’m okay with that. But we don’t want her to get hurt, or anyone else either, like Pete did.”
Now Pete took a turn. “I’m plain old embarrassed. These guys up and whacked me on the head in my own shop, and I never seen them coming.” His face reddened. “I feel real bad I was of no help to Terry. It’s just not right.”
“I don’t blame you, Pete,” Terry said. “In fact, I know it’s actually my fault you got hurt. I sure am sorry.”
A general hubbub broke out, as people reassured them both.
Melissa cleared her throat, and quiet ensued.
“The RCMP feel it’s okay for Terry to keep working, and from the facts available, are confident there will be no immediate payback.” Melissa cleared her throat again. “But we need to be careful and aware of what we see, like Jason did when he remembered details about the car the guys were driving, and like the woman from who reported the abandoned rental car, right? Like Chet said, we support Terry’s decision to keep on working, but we want you all to think this through. We want you to feel safe.”
“It’s not Terry’s fault that this happened.” Chet spoke. “She has done the right things all along, shown good judgment. The people that grabbed her are the ones who are wrong, and a couple of them know right now how bad their judgment was!”
There were some chuckles, as Isaac mimed swinging a wrench.
“So, if you feel uncomfortable, please talk to us tonight or tomorrow. We want everything out on the table, no muttering around, etcetera. This company means a lot to Melissa and I, and I hope you all realize that it isn’t just about making money,” he paused and dropped his voice a register “although my name is ‘Banks’ and I do like money.”
When the laughter ended, Chet said, “You all are important to us. We want you to make a good living, have a good chance at family life, and feel part of something that is important.”
There were nods, and Mary said, “And we really do appreciate it!”
“Thanks,” Chet nodded at Mary. “So, here’s what we’re doing. We’re going to continue working safely and watch out for each other. Descriptions of these two guys have already been posted on social media, and all along Highway 16 and various routes in Alberta. The RCMP have spoken with representatives from all the larger trucking companies servicing northern Alberta, and my guess is that coolers on Alberta highways will be treated suspiciously in the near future.”
He grinned and hoisted a soft drink, tilting it toward Terry. “Here’s to a brave trucker who put the hurt on the bad guys! I hope you feel welcome in the Banks Mountain family!”
Driving home late that night, Mary leaned across the center console, putting her head on Johnny’s shoulder. While Johnny had spent an hour cleaning up the shop, Mary had helped Melissa drive a few people home. Melissa was strict about driving and alcohol, and Johnny and Isaac’s earlier escapades hadn’t helped the cause.
Now at midnight, Johnny started laughing at himself and Isaac. “Man, what a couple idiots we were today! It was a lot of fun though; did you see his face when he saw the shop?”.
Mary got the giggles when he explained, and then giggled some more when Johnny began imitating how Jason was mooning over both his date and his multiple plates of food.
“Johnny, I am so glad we had this evening together, even though it was terrible what happened to Pete and Terry.” She paused, collecting her thoughts, looking out the windshield at the heavy snowflakes that seemed to be rushing at their vehicle.
“I am actually jealous of you, working for the Banks. They really seem to care about us, like, how much did all the food cost tonight? And did you see Melissa making it fun for the little kids, making sure they all had lobster, like who does that?” She sighed. “It was just so nice. I felt like I was home. Not my home growing up, we were not that happy, but home, you know?”
Johnny knew.
Chapter 20
Not only did Johnny understand, he had some ideas of his own. Early the next morning, while Mary was getting some much-needed sleep, Johnny went out to the workshop. He lit a fire in the ancient wood stove one of his uncles had installed many years before and started digging around in the long-untouched scraps of wood and boards stored in an overhead rack, dust filtering down through the horizontal rays of morning light.
He found what he was looking for and pulled down a fir board, the stain darker than he remembered. The wood was very dry, several cracks protruding into the grain of the wood on each end. He turned the rough-cut board over, and the skin around his eyes tightened when he saw the familiar letters burned into the wood.
The first line read in large capital letters: Welcome to the Amund Home.
The second line was in smaller lettering, another language: Ber er hver að baki nema sér bróður eigi.
Johnny remembered asking his Uncle Lars what the strange words meant. The sign had been screwed to the front of the farmhouse, and the young Johnny reached up, tracing the dusty, indented letters with his finger. His uncle was sitting on the porch steps in the late summer evening, sharpening an axe, several more waiting their turn at his feet.
Uncle Lars had repeated the strange words to Johnny, unfamiliar cadence rolling off his tongue, his eyes on the horizon.
“But what does it mean?” young Johnny demanded.
Uncle Lars lowered the axe and file, and motioned Johnny closer. “In English, it would be, ‘Bare is the back of the brother less man.’”
Seeing the question in the boy’s face, he tried again. “If you have a brother, you will be taken care of. You have someone to help you get what you need, you have someone who has, how they say it, ‘got your back.’”
The boy had processed this quietly, listening to the rasp of the file. Gray eyes serious, he said flatly. “But I don’t have a brother.”
His uncle nodded, holding out the axe in one hand, the file in the other. “You can always have a brother, Yonny,” he said, “And you can always be a brother.” He resumed skillfully sharpening the axe, using the flat file as he had taught Johnny many times; “respecting the metal”.
“Show me the brother of this axe,” he said. Johnny had indicated the axes on the ground, then nudged the one most similar with his foot.
“Yes, Yonny, but who is being the brother to the axe right now?”
Johnny remembered how he had thought before answering, familiar to Uncle Lars’ manner of teaching. “The file?”
The older man nodded. “Even though the file and the axe are very different, they help each other. The axe needs the file to stay sharp, and the file would have nothing to do if it didn’t help the axe.”
“You can always have a brother.”
Although this lesson had begun years ago, Johnny felt he was understanding it for the first time. “You can always have a brother,” he said aloud. The cat who had followed him into the workshop leaped onto the bench.
The pine kindling hissed and popped, and Johnny closed the stove vent and searched for a cloth with which to clean the board.
Lars and Nelsson Amund had been good friends, to each other and to Johnny. They had not gone out of their way to invite company to their home, but when someone stopped by, they were quick to make the visitors feel welcome. Johnny had learned much from the interesting discussions at the cluttered Amund kitchen table and had been welcome to join the adult conversation at any time.
“It’s about time I started making this happen,” Johnny said, surprising the cat. “Uncle Lars meant more than ‘brother’, he was talking about family, being there for others. And them being there for you.” The cat jumped back to the floor, taking its place by the stove.
Johnny found a cloth and wiped dust off the board, an inner smile showing around his eyes. The fire was crackling now, warmth reaching into the cold.
The words were faded but legible. They appeared to be burned into the wood, or was that old paint? Johnny wondered who had made the sign.
He found a container of linseed oil, and using a clean, cotton rag, worked the pungent oil into the wood. The sign began to glow as he rubbed; the color variations in the grain coming back to life. He ran his hands over the wood, trying to read the words. Trying to remember how Uncle Lars pronounced them. Ber er hver að baki nema sér bróður eigi. Bare is the back of the brother less man.
The cat stood and stretched, the promised warmth not worth the noise, and disappeared through the pet door.
Leaving the sign propped up on the workbench, Johnny added wood to the fire, and drove to town to pick up breakfast, light snow swirling and writhing in snakes on the road. He drank some coffee with the regulars at Charlie’s, then ordered a bag of food to go.
Before entering the house, Johnny went to the workshop to check his project. The cat was in its place by the stove, tangy smell of linseed oil filling the room. The sign glowed warmly, reddish wood contrasting with the cool winter light outside the window.
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