Christian Guay-Poliquin - The Weight of Snow

Matthias was wrong, it didn’t snow. Soon it will be a week since we saw our last cloud. During the day, sunlight fills the porch, and at night, stars pierce the sky. Only the blowing snow gives the impression that the white blanket has thickened in places.

We play chess and talk about this and that. The winter, food, my legs. Our conversations are sporadic since our games require all our attention. I still have not managed to beat him, but I am beginning to learn his tactics, his reflexes, his habits, and he knows it. He has stopped leaving anything to chance. He makes minute calculations before moving the slightest pawn. As if a reversal of fortune were something inconceivable.

It is my move when suddenly someone knocks on the door. Matthias jumps to his feet and orders me not to touch anything.

A man is standing in the doorway overflowing with light. Jonas. I have not seen him for over ten years, but I recognize him the moment he sets foot in the room. When I worked at my father’s garage, we used to see him going by on his bike. He always looked drunk, though he never touched a drop. He whistled and sang as he zigzagged along on his bicycle. Every day, in his innocence, he rummaged through roadside ditches and garbage cans in search of empty beer bottles. Often we saw him along the road, gathering up bottles and talking to himself out loud. From a distance, it looked as if he were having it out with the horizon.

He is wearing snow pants patched at the knees, a turquoise coat, a fur cap, and a long yellow scarf. And he is holding a pair of crutches. He comes in and leans them against the wall. He sits down on the stool, breathing hard. His cheeks are red with effort and cold.

It’s not easy, it’s hard getting anywhere with all this snow, he says, stumbling over his words. With snowshoes on my feet, I’m always afraid I’ll fall down and not be able to get up. I needed, it took me an hour to get here, maybe more.

Matthias seems surprised by this unexpected visit, but Jonas does not give it any thought. He watches me, his face split by a big smile.

I remember when you were no higher than that. When you came up to here. You used to run through the village with the kids your age. You tried to scare me. Scare me when I was out hunting empties.

Jonas has gotten older, but has not really changed. He moves the same way, hesitant but abrupt. The same overstated enthusiasm. The same luminous emptiness in his eyes. It’s true, he practically doesn’t have a hair on his head anymore, or a tooth in his mouth, but the way he speaks is just as fast. Sometimes his words pile up and fall over each other. As if he were in a hurry to speak his piece, in case it changed before he could get it out.

I didn’t know it was you they found underneath the car wreck last summer. Had I known. Had I known I would have come and visited. To tell you I’m sorry about your father. Yes, sorry. He wasn’t doing very well. In the village people said all kinds of things about him. People are like that. I should, I should know. I remember him well, I used to go see him at the garage all the time, I used to sit in a corner and talk to him as he worked. You left the village and you didn’t come back. Lots of water, that’s a lot of water under the bridge now. My poor mother died too. But she was luckier, she went before the blackout happened.

Matthias puts the soup on the stove. I search for something to say. My father, his poor mother, the blackout. That’s how it is, nothing to be done.

It’s nice of you to come, I end up telling him.

Pretty Maria told me you were here, he says. She gave me a pair of crutches for you. Look. She asked me to bring them for you. They’re real crutches. Real wood crutches. I wanted to bring them before, but yesterday a kid from the village came back from the forest with his face all bloody. Jacob. He was crying and nobody could understand a thing, not a word of what he was saying.

Jonas blinks his eyes hard a few times, then swallows his spit and goes back to his story.

When it happened he was bleeding a lot. They cleaned off his face, but there was nothing, nothing anyone could do. People started to panic. I wasn’t doing anything, so they asked me to go for help. So that’s what I did. Maria wasn’t at home. José opened the door. I told him everything and he went right away. I kept on looking, because Maria is the one who takes care of hurt people usually. But she wasn’t anywhere. So I knocked at Joseph’s place. He came to the door half-naked, like he’d just gotten out of bed. I told him everything that happened. I was just finishing my story when pretty Maria came up behind him, buttoning her shirt in a hurry. She thanked me, got her coat, and went right out. I stood there a moment in the doorway with Joseph. It was cold, but that didn’t seem to bother him. He looked me in the eye and made me promise not to say a word. I promised because it looked very, very important.

From the corner of my eye, I spot Matthias smiling, as if he had won a bet.

When I found Jacob again, Maria and José were fixing his wounds. In the meantime, he told what happened. He captured an ermine by trapping it in a hollow log. When he bent over to look at it, it leapt at his face. Those little beasts are nasty. You have to take care. Especially if they feel trapped. They’re completely white with a pink muzzle. They’re pretty, but nasty. Jacob got his cheek and his eyebrow cut up. Nothing, nothing too bad. But what a morning! That’s why, that’s why I didn’t come and bring you the crutches yesterday. Because of Jacob. And the ermine.

Matthias hands a bowl of soup to Jonas, who accepts it gladly.

Two days from now, there’s going to be a dance in the village, Jonas announces between two gulps. Jude is organizing it in the church basement. With generators and everything. He says there’s going to be beer and a hot meal. He’s been talking about it forever, and everyone, everyone is invited. I’ll be there, you can count on that. For the hot meal and the empties. Nobody wants to buy them from me anymore, but I put them aside. One day, one day I’ll go get the deposit and that’ll give me some money. A lot of money.

Jonas empties his bowl noisily by drinking directly from it, then he sets it down on the table with a look of satisfaction.

It’s going to snow pretty soon, he claims. The clouds, the clouds are like horse tails. It’s cold, but you can feel the humidity in the air. And the wind is going to blow for the next few days, that’s for sure. But you’re all right here. With the sun and the stove, you’re better off, much better than on the other side, right?

Matthias nods as Jonas gets up, puts his coat, his fur cap, and scarf back on.

I’ve got to go back down to the village. I promised, I promised to help out in the stable this afternoon. We’re going to get the hay out of the loft. That’s a lot of snowshoeing for one day and I don’t like walking with these things on my feet. But that’s all right, I’m happy to see you, see you again. After all, this place is your place. And the crutches, the crutches that pretty Maria found for you, they’re right there. You know, I remember when you were yay-high. You ran through the village with the other kids your age. You tried to scare me. But it never worked. No, never. Maybe you heard me from the distance, but I saw you coming. I always saw you coming.

Thanks for the crutches, I can’t wait to use them.

I remember, I always saw you coming, Jonas says one last time, and closes the door behind him.

We hear him continuing his conversation as he moves off. Through the window, I watch him head down toward the village with his gesticulations and his patchwork clothes. Matthias goes back to his spot in the rocking chair and stares intently at the chessboard.