Regan Wolfrom - After The Fires Went Out - Coyote

“Well, there’s no mention of Temiskaming on shortwave, either,” Matt said. “Whenever they talk about us on the BBC or that news station out of Boston they talk about Toronto, obviously, but they also mention Ottawa and even Aiguebelle once in a while. But no Timmins, and no Temiskaming. It’s a black hole out here.”

“They talk about places that are getting aid,” I said. “They probably have people on the ground in Aiguebelle to distribute food or fuel, and a correspondent here and there. I don’t think they’d bother with a place as small as Temiskaming. It’s probably no different than the way it was in Cochrane before The Fires, just a few dozen families trying to hold on.”

“They’re out there,” Graham said. “And we can make it to Temiskaming if we go now, before the next attack.”

“They’re not going to attack,” Matt said. “They’re not strong enough.”

“They want to attack,” I said. “But they’ll wait until we let our guard down…until we stretch ourselves too thin.”

“Like this morning,” Lisa said. “We’re lucky it was Stems and not those assholes pretending to be him.”

“We got back in time…and I won’t let that happen again.”

“So you know they’re coming for us,” Graham said. “But for some stupid reason you still want to stay?”

“We’re stronger than they are,” I said.

“That’s not true.”

“Trust me. We play it safe and we wait. That’s our best chance.”

“I can’t let this go,” Graham said. “We aren’t safe here.”

“We should vote,” Kayla said.

“It doesn’t matter what everyone wants,” I said. “It matters that we stay safe.”

“We’re taking a vote,” Sara said. “But you’re still in charge of security, so you’re in charge of whether or not we stay. You’ll make the final decision.”

“Then what’s the point of voting?” Lisa asked. “He’s already made up his mind.”

“Someone make a motion.”

“I’ll do it,” Kayla said. “I move that we stay at McCartney Lake.”

“Okay,” Sara said. “There’s the motion. Show of hands…all in favour?”

I didn’t know what to expect. I raised my hand and watched as the other hands shot up, Fiona, Kayla and Matt, four against two.

“Motion carried,” Sara said.

“Tell me, Baptiste,” Graham said. “What would you have done if they’d all wanted to leave?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “But I don’t think I would have given up. I don’t think I’d ever be willing to take us on the highway.”

“So we’ll never agree.”

“We don’t have to agree on everything. I’m not against looking at this again in the spring.”

“Whatever,” Graham said.

“No, seriously,” Lisa said, “I cannot wait until the snow melts so we can talk and talk all over again while you just ignore us and do whatever the hell you want.”

“I think we should adjourn,” Sara said.

But by the time she’d said it Lisa and Graham had already left the dining room, on their way upstairs and away from the rest of us.

“It’ll blow over,” Kayla said.

“I don’t think it will,” I said.

“It has to,” Fiona said.

“I know.”

I left for my own room, and I think for the first evening since we moved into that cottage on McCartney Lake, the whole downstairs emptied out as everyone went to hide from everyone else.

Today is Friday, December 28th.

The weekly meeting was held at our place, which is exciting and wonderful pretty much if you’re Fiona and no one else. She’d baked up something she called a dutch baby, and she’d laid out the fancier plates, alongside cloth napkins folded in triangles.

Kayla told her to stop trying so hard.

I hadn’t seen Alain Tremblay since before his brother died. I hadn’t given him my supposed sympathies and I certainly hadn’t apologized for the “accident”. Since he hadn’t dropped by, I was starting to get the impression that he was perfectly content with the idea of never seeing me again.

But when he showed up with Marc’s wife Suzanne, he smiled and extended his hand.

I didn’t know what that meant.

“I hope you’re feeling better,” he said to me. “I know it’s been a rough couple of weeks.”

I nodded. “It hasn’t been fun for any of us.”

I heard Fiona’s laughter from the dining room. I turned to see Matt leaning against the table, chatting her up.

Suzanne came in for a hug and a peck on the cheek. “Baptiste…it’s good to see you,” she said. She smelled amazing, in that way where you aren’t really sure that it’s something that could have come from a bottle.

“You, too,” I said.

“Just waiting on Rihanna and Justin,” Sara said as she came over to greet our guests.

“My nephew’s gone down to babysit,” Alain said. “They should be here soon. It smells wonderful in here…Fiona is a wonderful chef.”

“And supermodel,” I said.

“What?”

“Uh…bad inside joke.” I felt like an idiot.

Sara was glaring at me.

“Should we eat?” I asked. “I’m sure the Porters won’t mind.”

“We can wait a few more minutes,” Sara said.

I nodded.

I didn’t know what we were going to do while we waited.

All I knew was that it would be all sorts of awkward.

Alain sat down on the couch; Suzanne sat beside him, almost touching but not quite.

Sara sat down on the rocking chair, leaving me the recliner.

“That’s my spot,” Kayla said as she appeared out of nowhere. “And no…we can’t share.” She threw herself down on the recliner, throwing out the footrest as she landed.

Sara glared at me again.

I’m not sure why that was my fault.

I thought about standing, milling around the living room while everyone talked about whatever, but that would have been even more awkward, so I sat down beside Suzanne.

She gave me a tap on the thigh.

I didn’t bother looking at Sara.

“So you had a visitor yesterday,” Suzanne said.

“News travels fast,” I said.

“It does,” Alain said, “whether you want it to or not.”

“We were going to bring it up at the meeting,” Sara said.

“Sorry…I didn’t mean to sound rude.”

“No,” Kayla said, “you have a right to know.”

“Where’s Graham?” Suzanne asked.

“Hiding,” I said, forgetting the audience. “Uh…another stupid joke. I think he’s feeding the goats. Lisa’s with him.”

Suzanne smiled. “He loves those goats.”

“His family raises goats,” Sara said. Present tense, I noticed. I guess there was no reason to change it. “Boer goats…for meat. I think they have over fifty head.”

“Graham told me eighty,” Kayla said.

“He told me one hundred,” Suzanne said.

“Should be five hundred by New Year,” Alain said with a chuckle.

The front door opened without a knock.

It was Justin and Rihanna.

“Good morning,” Sara called out.

“Morning,” Justin said.

“Are we late?” Rihanna asked.

“We haven’t started eating yet,” I said. “So I guess you’re just in time.”

“Good…I’m starving.”

I hate it when people say that.

We ate breakfast without Graham and Lisa, since even Sara seemed to agree that they had no legitimate excuse for not knowing what time it was.

Alain handed out a boatload of compliments, mostly to Fiona and her breakfast, but also a comment on Sara’s beauty and a mention of Kayla’s sharp wit. He was trying a little too hard, but I guess that’s better than the opposite.