Waubgeshig Rice - Moon of the Crusted Snow

Evan watched Walter eye the large man. He guessed Walter was coming to the same conclusion he did after scrutinizing Scott’s figure — that he was somewhere in his late thirties or early forties. Clearly able-bodied.

“I followed two lines of snowmobile tracks to the power lines, which led me all the way here. I understand two of your young ones made their way back here, escaping the city like I did. I didn’t know where the trail would lead me. But here I am. And now, I’m begging you to allow me to stay here for the time being. I saw some pretty horrific things in the last few days.”

His voice cracked and he looked down at the hard-packed icy snow at his feet. The sudden vulnerability shocked Evan. He didn’t seem like the same cocky person who had prodded them moments earlier. Evan wasn’t sure what to make of this about-face, but it didn’t make him trust Scott any more. He didn’t believe everything about this stranger’s story, either.

“I’m sorry to hear of your hardships,” Terry responded. “We’re just starting to understand what’s going on here. It sounds pretty messed up. But why should we take you in?”

Scott stood straighter. “Well, Chief Meegis, I’m a hunter, much like you are, I assume. I can help provide for your community. I’m a survivalist. I know how to live on this land without the comforts and luxuries people in the South have become too dependent on. I know all about emergency management. I can help your people adapt to this situation.”

“Why should we trust you?” Terry asked.

“Because what you see is what you get,” he said. “I come to you with only the intention of survival and the hope of being part of a community. We’re only going to get through this with each other.”

“What’s in the boxes?”

“Supplies. Hunting gear. Food. Clothes. A tent. The essentials.”

“How do we know you’re alone, like you say?”

“You just have to believe me.”

“How can we be sure no one followed you?”

Scott shrugged. “I guess you can’t. But as your boys probably told you, no one down there was ready for this. They’re lucky they made it out.”

Terry pursed his lips. “Well, as I’m sure you can appreciate, Mr. Scott, we’re gonna have to discuss this. Please excuse us.” He turned his back on Scott and motioned for the others to follow him behind the biggest plough. “Take your time,” Scott said, flashing a toothy smile as they disappeared. Tyler remained in the truck, watching the newcomer.

They huddled behind the plough. Terry scratched his beard, and Walter tugged again at his ponytail.

“So what are we gonna do with him?” Walter asked.

“We can’t just send him back,” answered Terry.

Walter gritted his teeth. “The fuck we can’t!”

“What’s gonna happen to him if he goes back down there? Or if he has to find somewhere else to go?”

“Who the fuck cares! I don’t trust him.”

Evan piped up. “I don’t trust him either, Terry.” It was unusual for him to speak out, especially in a circle with his elders.

Terry sighed. “We may be able to use him, though,” he protested. “He could pull more weight than a lot of the deadbeats in this goddamn rez.”

Evan thought of his brother Cam and his friends who passed their days playing video games and smoking dope. Evan realized he hadn’t visited Cam lately and decided he would go over and check on him later.

“We can’t just turn him away,” Terry continued. “It’s not our way. We can’t just send him off to die.”

“Alright, we let him stay,” Walter conceded. “But he has to contribute. He has to hunt. He has to gather wood. Where are we gonna put him, though?”

“We can put him in the health station,” Terry suggested. The community nurses rotated in two weeks at a time and the crisis had hit the week before another one was to come in from Gibson. The health station was empty. This wasn’t the first time the rez had been left without a nurse, and when it happened, the few with first-aid training — like Nicole or Walter — stepped up for basic care.

“There are beds in there,” Terry went on. “There’s a kitchen. That means we’ll have to put the heat on in there, though. But eventually we’ll put him in someone’s house. As soon as he proves he can be a part of this community and that he can be trusted.”

“So what then,” Evan asked. “Do we make him get one moose a week or what?” He was only half-joking.

Walter chuckled. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“No, it’s not,” Terry said. “But we’ll worry about that later. For now, let’s just tell him the deal.”

“What about the rest of council? Shouldn’t we talk to them first?” asked Walter.

“I don’t think we have time. People are gonna eventually see us down here with him and they’ll come see what’s going on. We should get him out of the way.”

“Okay, make him promise to keep a low profile until after the meeting. People are gonna shit themselves if they see this big fuckin’ white guy out and about.”

Scott accepted their offer, saying he was humbled and honoured to join them. The late afternoon sun stretched their shadows as they got into the trucks to convoy to the community complex. Walter got behind the wheel of Isaiah’s truck with Terry in the cab and Justin Scott lying flat in the back. Isaiah drove Scott’s snowmobile. They rolled out of the parking lot, veiled by the encroaching twilight.

The sage smoke billowed high and dissipated. As it smouldered into ash, the scent weakened, giving way to the strong smell of woodsmoke now woven into the jackets and sweaters of the men and women in the crowd.

Nearly every seat was taken. There were more than twice the people gathered than the last time, and there was a more subdued hum about the room. There were fewer children in the crowd. People had quiet, serious conversations with their neighbours. And those who were silent gazed straight ahead, lips pinched with worry.

The chief had met with the council the evening before, just after Justin Scott’s appearance at the edge of town, to settle on a course of action. A stranger’s arrival didn’t sit well with any of them.

“Gchi-manidoo miigwech.” Aileen finished the prayer, but Terry stayed sitting, tapping his fingers on the table in a nervous staccato. The first two fingers on his right hand were stained a foul yellow from nicotine. He’d been chain-smoking since the power went out. He shared the general worry that cigarettes would soon run out too, but he couldn’t seem to cut down. He stood up and pulled at his thick blue sweater. “Good morning. Thank you all for being here. We asked you to come so we could bring you up to speed on what’s happening. We still don’t know what caused the problem or when the power will be back on. So we’re gonna ask you to keep being careful with how you use it. Jeff here will tell you more later in the meeting.

“We have some new information that gives us a better idea of what’s happening everywhere else. Some of you have probably heard by now about Kevin Birch and Nick Jones, who returned home from the city two days ago on snowmobiles.”

The room buzzed with the news. Terry let the murmurs subside before continuing.

“We’ve had a meeting with the boys, and they’ve told us that there’s a blackout down there too. It happened around the same time our power went out. So it sounds widespread. They decided to come home because the city people weren’t prepared and things were getting worse pretty quick. But they’re home and they’re safe. Right now, they’re just asking to be with their families, so please leave them be. You can come to us with your questions.”