The horror show began the exact second I told the truth. This was right after Janette came to town. Single Mom. Body of a stripper.
Kevin was like, “Check out the yummy mummy.”
“Yeah,” I said.
I always thought women with short hair could only ever be cute. I was wrong. She’s white, French. She even sparkled in French. Just listening to her in the Northern line-up warmed The Hammer nicely. The prized ivory of a white woman has put me in the worst kind of heat. Then Wendy’s masturbation incident happened, and I lost everything around me.
• • •
I saw Janette that aft getting out of her car as I cruised down Candy Lane in my Dad’s old truck. She saw me. She was playing hopscotch with her girl and smiled as I drove by for the fiftieth time down her street. God Bless Candy Lane. She stopped to pick something up, and it was the way she bent over that got me. Her shorts were so tight they cupped her ass and I could see her pubic mound. I had to keep on driving, pull over by the airport, turn off and empty myself in gushes onto the high grass. I came squadrons.
The school was still closed until they found a new principal, and this was my life: Jonathan hated me. Nobody waved back; the girls I grew up with ignored me. Fuck them all.
Donna kept calling. She wanted me so badly. She had been cute but that was about it. She had let her hair grow, and that sharpened the curves of her cheeks. Her eyes had gotten darker over the years, like her Mom’s, and she was still sort of pretty. And she had those tits. Her ass was a little fat and she was short. I couldn’t get her legs over my shoulders if I tried. Funny how she fazed me with those words outside the cafe after the showdown with Jon—“You’re a hero”—’cause I was anything but….
Janette, for some reason, had chosen Doug the Slug Stevens as her bull. I couldn’t believe this. The Slug raped his fourteen-year-old babysitter years back. That’s how he lost his kids. How the Slug got Janette was beyond me, but I was gonna sink his fuckin’ boat just like I sunk the principal’s.
Donna was knocking on my window last night at two. Her folks were Cree and let her run wild, I guess, whenever and wherever she wanted. She did three taps, waited and did three more. I waited until she left and stroked one off for Janette.
In the morning, Mom brought me a CD as I was combing out the back stoop of my mullet. Jonathan and I grew them on purpose because we were holdouts for the ’80s.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“You tell me,” she said. It was a CD case: Samantha Fox’s Touch Me.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Well somebody left it for someone here, and I know it wasn’t intended for me—and it better not be for your father.”
I opened it up and saw that Donna had written her name on the inside sleeve. “I must have dropped it last night.”
Mom looked at me, stared at me actually. Her eyebrows rose, then lowered. She swept the back of her hand with her palm and this was a move she used to make when she still smoked. She was nervous. “We need you to clear out that brush in the back yard. Snow’s coming soon and it’ll block the skidoos.”
I figured we were back to business. For a while there, I knew my folks were worried about me. After the social worker came and the RCMP took my statement, I wouldn’t leave the house. No one called. The weight of my own clothes on my body made me feel like an old man, and it felt like someone was doing a handstand on my shoulders, pushing me down. I worked out twice a day in the basement, stayed in my room for hours just listening to Van Halen, The Cult, The Outfield. All I did was read Playboy and try to plan my future sex life: sex with Janette, break her heart, then move on, find someone younger for sex in an elevator, the Mile High club, sex in the bathtub, sex in the shower, sex outside, sex in the rain, sex in the snow, sex out at the cabin, sex on the trapline!
These days, the only someone who calls is Donna, but at least I’m out and about. The one good thing that happened—and the only reason I’m out and about—is I got a call from Mr. Henderson aka Boss Hog over at Northern Lights Log Homes.
“I heard what you did,” he said. I could hear chainsaws in the background. “I need a log peeler who’s willing to work hard before the snow comes. After that, we’ll see if we can train you on the crane. The money’s okay. I can’t compete with government, but you’ll at least learn how to build your own log home. What do you think?”
Mom and Dad were watching me, and I knew Dad had put the word out that I needed an arrow of light to fly my way.
“Sure,” I shrugged. “Why not?”
So I worked all day, peeling logs for Boss Hog. The last thing I wanted to do on coffee break or lunch was ask questions or try to learn about building log homes. The first two days I forgot to bring gloves and shredded my forearms peeling the spruce and pine. After a while I didn’t feel it much anymore when the bark bit me. The good news was I was doing push-ups and pull-ups when the boss wasn’t around and I got tanned at the same time. To my surprise, that Samantha Fox CD was pretty good. I put it on low and got to work. To my even bigger surprise, Janette drove by in the government truck. I pinched my helmet a few times through my pockets so The Hammer’d swell as she drove by.
I stood up and smiled. I had my shirt off and was sweating something fierce. She smiled back when I flexed the pecs and even turned her head to look directly at me when she came by the second time on her way home from work. Nice.
I ran behind the biggest log pile and jacked off in jets to blast a web of fury and hysteria all over the logs behind the woodpile outside the work site. I surprised myself with how great it felt to come, the relief of it all, but the force and burn didn’t fade. It just got better and better. I got quite the tool here that’ll last me for life and lead me through a field of women.
• • •
Later, at coffee break, I walked into the office.
“Who’s Donna?” Boss Hog asked as he looked up.
“A friend,” I said, putting my gloves and hatchet away. “Why?”
“Tell her to quit calling here,” he said. “She’s called twice today.”
“You got it,” I said, and blushed in front of the guys.
He paused before getting into his big ass Duelly. “She wants you to meet her for fries and a Coke after work.”
Harold, Boss Hog’s oldest son, grinned. “How ’bout fries and a cock after work?” The crew howled like wolves and I looked away. Goddamn him. Fuck he had a big buffalo head. Why didn’t he get his front teeth replaced?
And goddamn that Donna....
• • •
“Don’t call me at work anymore,” I said on the phone.
“I want to see you,” she said.
I was drip drying from the shower. The tan was coming along good. I was trimming my muff with Dad’s moustache scissors. I wanted to have the perfect V, like what I saw in Mom’s Playgirl. “Not a good idea,” I said.
“Remember when we used to go out?”
“Not really,” I said. “Bye.”
• • •
Janette drove by one more time in the government truck checking the mail for the college. There were four roads to the post office. She chose the road that I was always working next to, which was the slowest. Was I imagining this? No. She looked back, waved and smiled. I waved, stepped out on the road, watched her. She tapped her brake lights twice just to let me know that I wasn’t imagining us.
I was gonna fuck her so hard it was gonna be brutal….
I re-read all of my Dad’s Playboys, couldn’t find one Playmate that even remotely looked like Janette. Snuck one of Dad’s condoms from the bathroom and came back into rubber.
• • •
Donna called during supper, twice. Mom told her to call back after seven.
“Is that Barb’s daughter?”
I scooped a big chunk of caribou into my mouth and nodded.
“I always wondered what happened to you two.”
“Mom,” I said, “we were in grade five.”
Dad nudged me under the table with his leg. “You know,” and I could tell I was gonna get a speech because he pulled out his favourite toothpick and moved to his chair by the woodstove. “I don’t know how they do it in Africa, but here in the north, it’s the bulls who pick, hey?”
“Here we go,” Mom said and rolled her eyes.
I got up and poured Dad a coffee and made one for myself. I even put on water for Mom’s tea. “Go on.”
Dad put his coffee on the rocks, by the woodstove. “Love only works if it’s the man who chooses.”
“Hmph,” Mom said.
“Now, Norma, hear me out. If a woman picks a man, it never lasts. It has to be the man who chooses. When a man chooses, that’s when love lasts.”
“Oh baloney,” Mom said.
“Think of the caribou, Norma. It’s not the cows who pick. It’s the bulls. Think of the moose, the bison. That’s nature workin’.”
“I chose you,” Mom said.
Dad stopped and looked at her, and the house fell quiet. My Dad smiled and reached out, “Norma, you just made my day. Son, disregard everything your old man just said.”
They laughed and went for a kiss. I saw the eagle feather quiver that Mom made Dad on their wedding day. It was filled with eagle feathers they’d collected together over the years when they went camping. Then the phone rang. They looked at me. Dad got up.
“I’m not here,” I said.
“Maybe it’s Jonathan,” Mom said. “You never know.”
“Yeah right,” I said.
Dad answered it. “Hello?”
He listened and covered the receiver: “You here?” and motioned by pointing at the receiver and mouthed: “It’s her.”
“Nope,” I ran my fingers through my hair. “Cruisin’.”
• • •
Candy Lane betrayed me that night. The Slug’s Chev was parked outside Janette’s house. The only light on at 10:15 couldn’t have been her daughter’s. Fuckin’ guy. I revved my motor outside her house. Nothing. I revved it some more until the neighbour’s lights turned on and her neighbour poked his head out. I didn’t stop. I kept revving again and an outside light popped on two houses down. Just when I thought the motor was gonna blow
through the hood her curtains moved. It was Doug. I peeled out and sped away.
• • •
Saw Donna walking down Main Street, swerved down a back road even though we both knew we saw each other. It was true—we did used to go out.
Grade five—she cried at a party and her cousins surrounded me: “You’re really mean, you know,” they said.
“Mean? Me?”
“You think you’re so cool,” Dolly said.
“What did I do?”
“Yeah,” Jonathan said. “What did he do?”
“Donna likes you, okay?” Dolly said to me. “Are you happy now?”
I knew Donna did. And the whole school did too the day she wrote my initials on her runners where everyone could see. After a week of nagging from all of her cousins, I agreed to go out with her—if she’d just stop crying.
“Okay,” I said as we sat on the playground fence. “Here are the rules. If we’re going to go out, you can’t walk beside me.”
“Okay,” she said.
“We’re not going to hold hands.”
“Okay.”
I pointed at her. “Ever.”
She was smiling, glowing with happiness.
“You can’t call my house and you’ve got to stop crying.”
She sniffled. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
She tried to touch my hand, but I pulled it away as if burned by water. “I’m not kidding, Donna. That’s strike one.”
Fuck, I was mean to her. She’d follow me around the playground and I’d shoo her away or ignore her all day. Then she’d cry and I’d have to talk to her. One hug usually made her happy, but then she’d hold on for dear life and I’d be like, “Okay, you can let go. Okay? Okay!” I had to kill it as summer came. Who knew what tourists would be coming for summer vacation bringing their daughters with them?
God, did Donna cry. Her cousins used their bodies to circle and shield her from seeing me. The bell rang and I slunk by. She yelled out to me, “But what was strike two and strike three?”
Her mascara was all over the place. It was too sad to look. I just kept walking. Then the strangest thing happened. She ignored me. Who did she think she was? That summer nobody hot came to Simmer. I’d see Donna in the park and I’d be like “Hi.”
And she’d look to her cousin and say, “Did you hear something?”
Dolly popped her gum and was like, “Nah.”
The only time she acknowledged me was at the Northern. One time, I was helping Mom shop and I saw Donna with her Mom. While our Moms decided to have a high school reunion in the dairy aisle, I walked up to her. “Hi,” I said.
She walked away without saying a word. Her eyes flashed fiercely as she looked away.
“Hey.” I followed her but she sped up. I bolted after her and she was trying to hide in the baby food aisle. I had her. And then I said the stupidest line of my life. Right there, across from the Cheez Whiz, I said the stupidest thing I ever could have said and I don’t even know why I said it: “Don’t walk away mad, okay? Just walk away.” I even had my hands out for full effect.
She rolled her eyes and blushed. “Whatever,” she said, before walking away.
When I came around the corner, there stood our Moms. I could tell by their eyes that they’d been watching us and were disappointed that I returned alone. How cheap. This had been a set up.
• • •
Donna tapped on my window at three am last night. I was rock hard and tempted. Gotta cool it with The Hammer. Got raw spots where I shimmied that sting when it gasped for air. It would have been a nice night for a walk with her, to talk and stuff, but I thought it was best not to lead her on.
I couldn’t believe she walked all the way across town to stalk me. That was a lot of pussy power making her do that. I always wondered what it was like for a woman to feel horny with nothing to get hard with but their pink erasers. Maybe the pull I felt for Janette was the same pull Donna felt for me?
• • •
Goddamn that Janette. Stopped cruising down my street at work. I was desperate all day. Went behind the log pile and measured The Hammer with a tape measure: a little over seven and a half. Not growing, not shrinking, just was.
Then—then! I slammed my frickin’ thumb with the back of the hatchet by accident. God, the pain! It throbbed with agony that did not let up.
“She’ll turn black,” Boss Hog said at the first aid station, “and fall off pretty quick.”
Harold handed me an ice pack and shook his walrus head. “You should have a new thumbnail by the time grade twelve starts.”
I looked out the window and winced as a new wave of throbbing came for my thumb. At least Donna had quit calling work.
• • •
Just as I thought all was lost, I cruised down Candy Lane and Janette’s car wasn’t there. I raced across the potato field and sped down Main. Sure enough, her car was outside. The Slug’s. There. In the car. They were sitting and yelling at each other. The Slug looked like he was barking at her, he was yelling so loud. I cruised by, but she didn’t see me. Things were looking up.
• • •
“Dad,” I yelled as we cleared the last of the deadfall. “Tell me about Doug Stevens.”
Dad turned off his chain saw. “The Slug?”
“Yeah.”
“Bad dude. Nasty temper. I told you what he did to his babysitter.”
“Yeah.”
“He gets a lot of women, that guy.”
“But how? Is he rich, or what?”
“No more than the rest of us.”
“So why do women go after him?”
“Funny how that works. Women just can’t seem to get enough of a mean man. Isn’t he seeing that new woman? What is she—French?”
Dad already knew. He and his pallies got together every night at Stan’s house and had a couple cold ones. They listened to Waylon, shot some stick. I couldn’t wait until the day they invited me to join them for a drink. They knew, I was sure, all about Janette and the word was out, you could bet, that I had it for her something fierce.
“What’s it take, Dad,” I asked, “to break a woman’s grip on a man?”
Dad stopped and looked at me. He looked at my build and read my eyes. “A good fight can settle things pretty quick. Women respect that. But you’re a little young for her, don’t you think? Why not go for the one who’s calling the house?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Too young.”
He nodded and said nothing before starting the chainsaw back on and getting to work. Doug was a dirty fighter, mean. I was worried. I knew I couldn’t beat him. Fuck, I was only seventeen.
• • •
Last night there was no tapping on my window. As I waited to hear her footsteps on our gravel driveway, I remembered us going out. I’d known Donna since kindergarten. Before we became strangers, she told me she used to wash her hair twice a day. She also washed her socks with bleach so they always looked new. You could smell it. She had always liked me. I couldn’t remember her ever having a boyfriend. She left town for a couple years. Her Dad made some great money in Fort McMurray as a carpenter, but I guess they missed Simmer.
• • •
The day Jonathan and I had it out, Donna was working at the Coffee Shop. I went there to talk to Jonathan but I knew the second I walked in the whole place was brewing for him and me to fight. He hadn’t cut his hair so that was a good sign.
“Way to go, winner,” Jonathan said and pushed me.
“What’s up?”
“What do you mean—what’s up? I’m not going to Disneyland is what’s up. All because of you.”
A small group of girls raced from their seats and surrounded us. “Fight! Fight!” they were yelling. The rest of the girls ran outside.
Uh oh, I thought. Once the girls ran outside, there was no turning back. Jonathan shook his head at me because we both knew the girls would lock their arms into the shape of an octagon like in UFC.
“Fuck sakes anyways,” he said. “Now we gotta fight.”
“Way to go,” I said. They’d probably want us to whip our shirts off and fluff out our mullets now. That’s the classic in this town. I looked around. Even the adults and the Chinese owners knew there was no turning back.
“All right,” Valerie announced as she walked in. “Let’s get it on!”
Jonathan stood and we walked out into the bright sunlight and practically half the town was there. The girls had joined arms and they were all grinning. “Fight! Fight! Fight!” Adults even stood outside the post office while trucks slowed down and pulled into the Terminal parking lot. I’d have to fight Jonathan now, and I didn’t want to. He had a bad knee from basketball but that was off limits. Maybe his face bone or his bony ribs. The circle of woman power opened to receive us. The girls all started to cheer and stomp their feet. How cheap. I just couldn’t even believe this was my life right now.
Jonathan led me right to the centre before spinning around. “Come on, fucker!” he yelled. He whipped off his shirt and fluffed out his mullet! The girls cheered to hysteria and I could tell by his eyes he was really into this now. I couldn’t believe he’d turn this into an academy award performance. He tucked his shirt around his belt. I let out my breath and felt ninety years old. “Take your shirt off, Gerald!” one of the girls yelled. And then they all started cheering. “Shirt! Shirt! Shirt!”
I wasn’t going to do it.
“Come on, Gerald!” Debbie yelled. “Take that frickin’ shirt off and show us what you got!”
The circle quieted for a second. Debbie’s brother committed suicide last summer in their basement so even Jonathan looked at me like I’d better.
He lowered his fists. “Come on, Gerald.”
Well, geez, I thought. I took off my shirt and all the girls cheered even louder. Even Debbie. They cheered so loud the back stoop of my mullet practically blew sideways. I tucked my shirt into my belt and smiled. This wasn’t so bad. I understood why our Dads did this. It was a Simmer mating ritual and our culture all rolled up in one!
“Fluff the mullet! Fluff the mullet! Fluff the mullet!” they started to chant and I shook my head. God, the women of this town were so bossy.
Jonathan motioned that I had to, so I did. I took my time and leaned back like Dog the Bounty Hunter all slow and luxurious. I flicked my back hair out like I was a party on two legs waiting to happen. The girls went crazy and I wondered if this was what it felt like to be one of the Beatles in their prime. The girls were stomping their feet and going bananas over our hair and I caught Jonathan smiling at me. He loved this. Holy cow, his nipples were the colour of Monday morning hickeys. Then his face hardened so I made mine, too.
“I’m gonna down you!” he yelled and there was more cheering. The fight was on now.
But I stood my ground. I planted my feet on the pavement and raised my hands into fists. “Okay, Jonathan. How long have you known me?”
“Too long,” he said and spit by my shoe. He gauged the crowd. The electricity was building. Even the bar stars had made their way around us. And they’d want an all-out brawl with bannock slaps and drop kicks.
“Down him!” someone yelled.
“Yeah,” another jeered. “Think you’re good, Gerald?”
Jonathan was tough, but he wasn’t that tough. He raised his fists and started hopping back and forth, just like in grade seven when I had to teach him how to dance. We stood so close I could see the sweat beads he got on his nostrils in gym class. I started reading his eyes to see how far he was going to take this when a girl kicked me hard towards him. I looked back. All I could see were hands and eyes, hair and purses.
“Listen to me,” I yelled to the crowd. “The second that fuckin’ principal left town is the second he admitted he did it.”
“Bullshit! He’s embarrassed,” someone yelled back.
“So embarrassed that he stole all your money?” I looked to the crowd. “All of yours? Think about it. This guy’s an adult, and he left town in the middle of the night—”
“He’s our principal,” Jolene yelled. “He wouldn’t do anything like that!”
“Yeah!” the crowd yelled. “You’re just jealous ’cause you didn’t fundraise.”
“You lazy Dogrib!”
“Frickin’ loser!”
Someone spit on my face and I could smell tobacco and coffee and something like fries and gravy in it. Gah! Jonathan and I looked together to see who it was. Whoever it was was hidden behind the wall of people circling us, kicking us together so hard that Jonathan and I had to hold each other up.
“We’re not friends anymore,” he said. “I thought I knew you, but it’s true. You didn’t fundraise. You were jealous ’cause we were gonna go to Disneyland and you weren’t.”
“Punch the back of his head through the front of his face!” a voice yelled and the circle grew quiet.
It was Torchy and his brother Sfen. I didn’t even know how they got where they were but they had their leather jackets off and we could see their tattoos and muscles. They were hardened criminals and their eyes were warlike and fierce. How cheap. They were Dogribs, like me, Kevin Garner, and Wendy.
“Come on,” Torchy said. “Is this a fuckin’ fight, or what?”
Fuck, he looked rough with his crooked smile. I looked and, sure enough, they had their cowboy boots on. Dad told me they stuffed their cowboy boots with lead so they could kick you in the eyes when they got you down. Also, they only looped their belts at the 3 and 9 position so they could whip them out in a knife fight. They had Tonka sized belt buckles, which they sharpened, to aim for your teeth and face.
Once the whole crowd realized Torchy and Sfen were there, everyone broke up and stood still. I saw fear in Jonathan’s eyes as he kicked himself back into the crowd, turned, and pushed his way out of the horde.
“Awwww,” the crowd yelled. “Fight him, Jon!”
But even that sounded weak.
Torchy started rolling a smoke and Sfen watched me, to see what I would do. It was like he could melt steel with his eyes he was so tough. I felt the cold gob of spit roll to my neck. I turned and walked away. I used my shirt to wipe the saliva off. It was just slimy and I’d probably get TB now. Gross! I was listening for someone to run behind me and try a cheap shot, but then Donna came running beside me.
“Gerald! Wait!”
I didn’t stop walking. She held a hot J Cloth to my face and wiped the spit off. She had to hop up ’cause she’s so short.
“Hold still,” she said, and I smelled dishwashing soap and vinegar.
“Go away,” I said.
“You’re a hero,” she said.
I rolled my shirt on. “Leave me alone.”
“No,” she said. “I love you.”
My eyes bugged as I walked away. “Take it easy,” I said.
• • •
Janette never cruised by work that day, so I went for a little cruise myself. Told the boss I had something in the mail and there, before my eyes, walked Janette and The Slug holding hands, downtown, together. I drove by, looked back and she looked away. I double tapped the brakes so the rear lights would flare and Doug saw that. Fuck. I seen him turn to her and I knew he knew. Fuck.
• • •
Cruised all day with the sun hot on my arms listening to The Cult’s She Sells Sanctuary and Van Halen. Didn’t know what to do.
Janette was in his grip and my dog balls were so loaded for her.
I finally admitted it: goddamn this Beaver Fever. I was so fucking lonely and one woman had to be like any other, right? I cruised by Donna’s with the Madness feeling me up. The air was sweet with the aroma of leaves freshly burned in the front yards all over town.
Sure enough, there was a pile of smouldering leaves off to the side of their property and two rakes propped against their porch. Donna was sitting out on her deck with her folks. She saw me and sat up. I stopped, waved her over. She looked at her folks and they checked me out. Her Mom wanted to wave but looked at her hubby. Donna’s Dad—Ronny? Donny?—I could never remember his name—looked back down at his paper and Mom put her spatula down. They looked at their daughter, but Donna was already on her way over. She was smiling and blushing. I saw those big knockers of hers sway together as she made her way to my truck, and I saw she was wearing moccasins.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Nice moccasins.”
She looked down and I checked her out. “Thank you. My Mom and I made them.” I started to harden, just thinking about it. I got brave. “I missed you last night.”
She smiled the sexiest smile and looked left. “I didn’t think you ever heard me.”
I looked away. “I’m playing hard to get.”
She laughed and whispered, “You always have. Did you get my CD?”
I nodded. “She’s pretty good.”
“What’s your favourite song?” she asked, and I could tell she was testing me, reading the wind ahead of us.
I thought about it. “That one that goes, ‘Baby I’m lost for words.’”
Her eyes brightened. “That’s mine too.”
“Can I see you tonight?”
I saw a flush at the base of her neck. She had a little fire in her. “Sure.”
“Where and when?”
“Meet me at the park at eleven.”
She looked at her folks and looked back at me. “Okay.”
“Dress sexy,” I said, and I was surprised I said it. Both of us were shocked with my hunger. Her mouth parted and she nodded before looking away. She was blushing. So was I. I drove away feeling like Rocky.
• • •
The other good thing that happened occurred on Day Two of being blacklisted: Pops knocked on my door.
“Come in,” I said and sat up.
He saw his stack of Playboy and smiled. “Good reading, hey?”
I nodded. “I’m learning.”
He chuckled. “I know the Posties think we’re swingers, but we renew our subscriptions each Christmas. I can’t remember how it started, but I couldn’t imagine this house without ’em.”
I smiled. “Me either.”
“You know, son,” he said, and there was his toothpick. “I want you to know I am proud of you, and we stand by you. I think you calling social services took courage, and this is a time that will show you who your true friends are. Your mother and I, well....” He put his hand on mine. “You’re a man now.” He pulled out the keys to his truck and handed them to me.
Surprised, I asked, “What’s this?”
“She’s yours now. Take good care of her.”
I sat up on the bed. Dad’s truck—mine?
“She’s got four months left on insurance. After that, it’ll be in your name. You’re in charge of putting gas in her, and she could use an oil change before the snow comes.”
I was speechless.
He held out his hand. “Deal?”
I could not believe it. I took his hand. “Deal.”
He hugged me and said, “Love you, son.”
I felt the tears well up and had to wait a bit. “Love you too.”
“Take her for a cruise,” he said. “Your Mom’s worried sick, and it’ll do her good to know you’re getting out.”
It was ten at night. “You sure?”
He patted my shoulder. “Sure.”
Best ride of my life. I put on one of my Dad’s tapes: The Outfield’s Taking My Chances. I crank it as I cruised. Got out. Saw the townies. Rode by Jonathan’s. Saw his light on but didn’t honk. I bet he was practicing his guitar and listening to The Cult. I bet he was getting his hair cut to betray me even more. We were supposed to grow it out until we graduated from PWS. Cheap.
I missed the way we could just call each other up to call each other down.
“Hello?”
“Hey. I heard you got a big one.”
“Uh huh. That’s right. How’s you doin’?”
“Got a sore cock and a full belly.”
“Same, baby. Same.”
I thought about how we used to go snowshoeing out by the highway and one of us—usually Jon—would always say, “They say the grandfathers always take care of you when you’re on the land.”
Then we’d pretend to be Cree and go, “Tapwe. Tapwe.”
I drove by the church and shook my head. The truth never set me free. Doubled back and went down the figure-eight loop to the airport and, despite my nervousness, drove down the clutch-my-sack (Raven talk for cul-de-sac) to where the principal lives.
The lone streetlight caught the hood of the truck, and I could see the dents my father couldn’t—or didn’t mention—from the afternoon Jonathan and I practiced being the Dukes of Hazard, rolling across the hood of the truck in imaginary getaways.
“I’m Luke!” Jonathan slid across the hood.
I did too. “I’m puke!”
We fell on our knees and held our hands out to the spruce trees. “We’re the Dukes, and we’re gonna plug you through your panties!’
God, we were like eleven years old. Man that was fun. That was the day we tried Red Man chew like old timers, and threw up in the potato field on the way home for supper.
I got out of the truck, pissed on the principal’s lawn, gave him the finger. “That’s haunted ground now, fucker,” I said. “I hope you burn in hell for what you did.”
Just as I hopped in my truck and pulled away, the lights caught something and I slammed on the brakes. There. By the picture window. Someone had touched the house with bloody hands. Wendy?
“Fuck,” I whispered.
It was the spookiest thing: a single red handprint on the front of the white house.
“Fuck,” I said again and drove away.
I swerved to Jonathan’s part of town and stopped outside his house, “And fuck you, Jonathan, for not backing me up!” before smoking the tires and racing away.
I saw his bedroom light turn on in the rearview, but nobody ran out of his house. And that was when I saw another handprint in front of Baxter’s house. From what I read in the paper, he was charged with molesting kids at his son’s sleepovers. He put something in the food. The kids were never really asleep; they were almost unconscious when he played with their bodies. What the fuck was going on?
• • •
Eleven o’clock. On the road. Picked Donna up, and she never looked finer: jean jacket, hair long, tight jeans and new shoes. Perfume in the cab and she couldn’t look at me as we cruised down the highway. Was she virgin? I didn’t have the balls to ask. I was thinking about Janette and the Slug. No cars at her house. Or his. Maybe they would accidentally surprise us in their vehicle as they searched for a place to make out.
We drove down the highway to the towers. I pulled up, turned off the truck but kept the tunes running. I’d brought Samantha Fox and I could tell she loved this. I stared straight ahead and felt her huge eyes on me.
“Strip,” I said and looked right at her. “Show off for me.”
And she did. Right down to her bra and panties. Donna took her socks off and hissed. “The floor’s cold.”
I winced when I thought about how I should have cleaned the truck out.
“Okay,” she said. “Your turn.”
I pulled my shirt over my head, unzipped my pants, took them off and kept my Calvin K’s on. She was looking at The Hammer straining to get out. People thought I’d banged my share, but I hadn’t. Fooled around. Got a sloppy lick from a Hay River girl with carrot shredder teeth, but no pelt.
“I love your lips,” she said.
“Take off your bra,” I said.
She looked into my eyes. “I always have, Gerald.”
I smiled because I felt that and it felt sweet.
“Turn up the heat,” she said.
I did and she reached behind to reveal the most beautiful knockers in town: slopers that supported their own weight with a little bit of side swell. Lovely nipples as long as bullets and cookies as big as loonies. “Damn,” I said.
She covered her chest. “What?”
“When did you get that body of yours?”
She was horrified. “Why?”
“’Cause you are hot.”
She was still frozen but looked down. She cleared her throat. “Since grade ten.”
I couldn’t believe what a treasure I’d found. I started sudsing up when she asked, “Bring any condoms?”
“No,” I said. “You?”
“No,” she said. “I thought you—”
Too late. I was so horny I was shivering and started to kiss her. I pulled her panties off and I could feel her skin against mine. She tasted good, smelled great. Before she knew it, I spread her legs and she leaned back.
“If you love me and my lips,” I said, “you’re going to love this.”
I pull my gonch off and there, fully exposed, rose my hot tusk rising—The Hammer.
“God,” she said. She couldn’t catch her breath.
I smiled. “Yeah.”
“You better not give me the dose, Gerald,” she said and pointed at me.
“You too,” I said and pointed back.
And we burst out laughing. I was surprised at how good she looked naked. I looked at her fur. She was quiet for a bit before she said, “Don’t knock me up.”
I scooted towards her trying to aim. “I won’t.”
She gripped me with her hand and squeezed. “No hickeys or doing your business inside of me, okay?”
“Okay.”
She guided me into her and I melted with how hot she was inside. Even my toes started to shiver. And I was shameless. I squeezed her tits and ass and burned my mouth through her neck. I gave her monkey bites all over. I scared myself with how ferocious I was and the whole time she loved everything I gave her. I thought she was gonna blow my eardrums she was so loud.
I could not believe what a great body she had.
So this is how it is? I thought as I glided inside her. This isn’t so hard. There was a wet burning heat inside of her and every thrust only got us hotter. I thought I was gonna lose it. I was worried I couldn’t come but then I thought about Janette. She tightened and tried to kick away. “No! Not yet. Not inside me.”
But I only came harder. It came searing out of me so perfectly I even surprised myself by crying out, grabbing her shoulders and biting her neck.
“Fuck sakes,” she said and pushed me hard.
“Sorry.”
“What the fuck were you thinking? I told you not to!”
“I wasn’t—Sorry! Take it easy.”
“Take it easy? I’m not on the pill, Gerald.”
I looked at her, made sure no one was coming down the road. No romance here.
She got dressed. I got dressed. We argued back to town. I told her I was sorry a hundred times in the longest twelve minutes of my life that it took to get her home.
“I’m not going home like this,” she said. “Take me to the gas station. I need to wash up. My Mom’ll be waiting for me at the house.”
Fuck sakes. I did. I pulled up and she got out before I could say anything. I bought her an Orange Crush and I grabbed a Coke. When the cooler door opened, I caught a whiff of myself and I smelled us together. Sex!
Lisa Snow was working the counter. Her eyes followed Donna, and I just knew she couldn’t wait for me to leave so she could call her friends.
“Hey,” I said as I put the drinks on the counter.
She nodded, rang it up and looked out the window. “Two-fifty.”
I gave her a Loonie and a Toonie. “Keep it,” when she tried to hand me back my change. She still didn’t look at me. Well, now that I know what to do, I could fuck her next, if I wanted to.
“Loser,” she whispered as I walked away.
“No cock for you,” I said loud enough for her to hear as I opened the door.
• • •
Donna washed up, came out smelling great with that perfume of hers.
“Sorry,” I said.
“I can’t believe this,” she said and slammed the door. She was really mad. I’d never seen her mad before and it scared me.
“We’ll cruise, okay?”
We cruised to the airport, and I felt bad. She didn’t deserve that. I put Van Halen on and When Love Walks In came on. We were quiet for a bit, both wishing for something neither of us could have.
After a while I said, “Come on now. Don’t be like that.”
“Do you do this to all your girlfriends?” she asked and looked out her window. She didn’t open her Orange Crush.
I didn’t want to go for the sympathy vote, but I told her. “That was my first time.”
She looked at me. “What?”
I told her again. “Honest. You’re my first.”
“Stop the truck!” she yelled.
I pulled over and she was hugging me and kissing me all over my face. “Oh thank you thank you thank you,” she said. “Thank you, Gerald.”
She was happy and I was relieved. “I’m sorry I was rough,” I said. “I was just nervous, I guess.”
“Be as rough as you want,” she said, “I just don’t want a
baby yet.”
She rubbed her tummy when she said that and that scared me. “Me too,” I peeped.
“Let’s cruise,” she said and she was smiling. “First time, huh?”
I blushed. “Yes.”
“Honest?”
“Honest,” I said. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t.”
I gave her a mean look. “Do not tell your cousins.”
She crossed her arms. “I won’t.”
“You better not.” I said, “especially Bonny.”
She reached out and touched my dimple, and for some reason we burst out laughing. I felt great. I felt really good.
By then it was midnight. I thought, if I’m going to get it when I get home, I might as well get it good. We cruised around. Did the figure-eight route between Kid City and the airport and we drove by the principal’s turn-off.
“Stop,” she said.
“No,” I said.
She touched my wrist. “Please.”
I stopped, backed up, and turned into the clutch-my-sack facing the house. There was that red handprint again. My heart raced wild and I finished my Coke. I pointed to the handprint and she leaned forward. “What is that?”
I shrugged and flashed my brights on it. “Don’t know.”
“What happened to your thumb?” she asked. “And your wrists. What are they—those marks?”
“Huh?”
She peeled back my sleeves to reveal the spruce gum stains and scrapes from bark bite. “Suicide,” I said and she covered her mouth. I burst out laughing. “No. I’m sorry. That wasn’t funny.”
Her eyes were huge.
“From work,” I said. “The bark of the trees slices me up when I pull it off.”
“Why are the marks so black?”
“Spruce gum.”
She punched my arm. “Don’t joke about suicide!”
“Hey,” I pulled away. “Sorry. You really make me nervous, you know.”
She pulled away from me. “Well so do you.”
“Hey,” I said softly.
“Hey what?”
I held out my arm and she looked at me. What was that in her eyes—disappointment? She scooted over and I put my arm around her, and it hit me that we were sitting in my truck like every couple in Simmer does when they make it official. My back started to burn. She had clawed me up!
“You did the right thing,” she said.
I tried to figure out which room had been Wendy’s. “You figure?”
She nodded and leaned into me. “Can I ask you something?”
I shrugged. “Go ahead.”
“How did you know?”
I took a big breath. My folks hadn’t even asked me this yet. I knew they were biding their time and giving me mine.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” she said.
Her hair smelled nice. “If you give me a sip of your Orange Crush, I’ll tell you, but don’t tell anyone, okay?”
“Okay.”
I took three mouthfuls and handed it back. I couldn’t look at her.
“It was Wendy.”
“What about her?”
“Well, you know she was slow, hey?”
She nodded.
“Did you know she was Dogrib?”
“No.”
“She is. Same as me. In fact, we’re probably related. We were at track practice. This was when Jonathan was still my friend. Well, there we were, getting ready for the high jump when Wendy laid down, took off her clothes and started playing with herself.”
Donna cleared her throat and put her hand on my leg. I looked at the principal’s house and wondered, which room didn’t you rape her in?
“But how did you know?”
I looked at those trees. “This may sound sick, but she had a hot body. The boys knew it. We all knew it. The way she was playing with herself….”
She was quiet for a bit before she answered, “Okay.”
“Well, she was doing this for show. She was looking at all of us and licking her lips. I don’t know where the fuck she got it, but, somehow, she’d smeared lipstick on her lips and was trying to be all sexy, and I could tell this was rehearsed. Like she was trained, you know? And then I saw her toenails.”
“What about them?”
I sat up and flashed my brights on that handprint. “They were painted red. Like that.”
“So?”
“A sexy, deep red. The kind women wear.”
Donna was quiet, giving me the space I needed.
“Did you ever see his wife?” I asked.
“I keep thinking I did, but now I don’t know.”
“You couldn’t miss her. She was two hundred and forty pounds. She didn’t wear nail polish like that. She was a Bible thumper, remember?”
“Go on.”
“Wendy didn’t put that nail polish on herself, and I know the principal’s wife wouldn’t. He did.”
I could tell this scared her and that was why I was telling her the PG-13 version. She sat up and checked to see if the door was locked. “So what happened?”
“I knew, in that second, that he was molesting her. Think about it: they never took her anywhere. They got a big ol’ house. When I called social services, the worker came and took my statement. I didn’t tell the coach. I didn’t tell Jonathan, but a cop car and a social services vehicle in my driveway pretty much alerted the town it was me who had something to do with his little midnight run.”
I pointed to the living room window. They left the drapes closed. You could never see into this house, even on a sunny day. “Look at this house. It’s like a wolverine den. He can see everyone who’s coming down the road, but you can’t see in.”
I pointed to the fence. “That fucker put fence all round his property, high walls, barricading himself in. He doesn’t have any neighbours, so he could be as loud as he wanted. Whatever went on in that house was so horrible, my Dad told me the Sergeant walked out and vomited when they did the raid.”
“God,” she said. She made a motion like the sign of the cross but stopped herself.
“The sad thing is his wife knew. You didn’t see her out in public much, did you?”
“No.” She took another sip and leaned over and kissed my cheek before resting her head on my shoulder. “You should be a cop.”
I pulled her closer and could smell her shampoo and perfume. That felt nice. “That fucker called the moving company the night I told and paid cash to Bully’s to pack and move his entire house in the middle of the night.”
“I can’t believe his wife stuck with him.”
“Stupid white bitch. They were gone before the cops knew what happened.”
“At least social services got Wendy before they left.”
“Yeah.”
The R Rated version was that it was Kevin Garner, Simmer’s Dogrib drug dealer, who pointed out the obvious clue: she was shaved bald.
“You better call social services,” he said.
“What? Why not you?”
He looked at her and turned away. “You and I both know she couldn’t do that to herself. I’m a dealer, Gerald. You call. They’ll believe you.”
And he walked.
“He stole our money,” Donna said quietly.
“Huh?”
“You know how he was going to take all of the students who fundraised to Disneyland?”
“Yeah.”
“We raised over eight thousand dollars.”
“Were you a part of that? How much did you raise?”
She looked up “Three hundred and twenty-four dollars. My Mom and I baked pies.”
“Really? What else?”
“Cookies and cakes.”
I smiled, thinking about this. “You bake?”
She smiled. “Of course.”
“You a good cook?”
“Maybe.”
I got hard again, thinking of her baking with her Mom, maybe listening to country and western and laughing with her ma as her pops read the paper, smiling in the living room. “What’s your best dish?”
“Um … pork chops, gravy, mashed potatoes—”
I flew upon her something fierce. Right then and there across from the house. In the truck. Across from the principal’s, I had her undressed with me on top in seconds.
“Don’t do your business,” she kept saying. “Don’t you do it.”
“I won’t, baby,” I said.
She gripped my shoulders and pulled me deep into her with her thighs. “I love you, Gerald,” she said suddenly.
“Me too,” I said, surprised.
“Oh,” she shivered as she swallowed me between her legs. “We fit so perfect.”
I didn’t do my business. Couldn’t. But she did. And how. She took all of me. To the hilt.
• • •
Afterwards, we shivered together.
“Wow,” she said. “What happened?”
I got embarrassed. “You turned me on, okay?”
“By talking about cooking?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Sorry.”
She laughed and kissed my forehead. “Well, if that’s all it takes, we’ll be great.”
I kissed her back. This time I kissed her and no one else. I mean it.
We cruised around and she asked, “You lost a lot by telling, hey?”
I nodded. “Jonathan doesn’t talk to me anymore. They just can’t shake the fact they’re not going to Disneyland.”
“Think about what he might have done to the students who went,” she said.
I looked at her. That’s exactly what the social worker said when she came to the house to take my statement and do follow up. “Thank you for saying that.”
She kissed me and touched the side of my face gently. “You are a hero. You saved that girl from more rape. The cops’ll get him.”
We pulled up to her place. “Hope so.”
“Call me, okay?” She looked around. “I’ve lost my sock.”
“I will. Sorry I did my business.”
“Where’s my sock?”
I looked around. “Maybe you dropped it when we were in the gas station.”
“Maybe. Just don’t knock me up, and thanks for your cherry.”
I laughed out of shock and when I looked up I had tears in my eyes. She kissed my neck and then, in the sign of the cross: forehead, chin, cheek, cheek. We ended by kissing and she walked away. I went home without cruising down Candy Lane. Can’t disrespect my woman, hey.
I wondered: Why didn’t we do this years ago?
I went to sleep part of the de-virginized club without washing up. In fact, before I fell asleep, I reached down and used my fingers to smell her all over again.
And the smell was animal. I loved it. I sniffed my fingers and smiled before rolling over. Donna Donna Donna, you finally got me. I thought of Wendy, how I used to pass her in the halls without ever looking at her. The only special needs in high school and she had to be Dogrib. The Crees, Chipewyan, Gwich’in, Slavey and whites just loved that. She made me ashamed to be Tlicho, but I was glad I helped her. I hoped she was safe, wherever she was.
• • •
Woke up smiling. Thank you, God, and thank you, Donna. Felt the weight of telling and being banished leave me as I washed myself clean.
Came out of the bathroom and Mom was standing there holding up a sock. “What’s this?” she asked. It was Donna’s sock. Bleached white but scuffed from the truck’s floormats. The one she left behind.
“I went swimming last night,” I said. “Gave a friend a ride home.”
“I bet,” she said and looked at me. “You make an honest woman out of whoever it is you’re seeing. Do this right and with respect.”
“I just gave her a ride home, Mom.”
I was out the door to work before she could ask when I’d be home for supper.
• • •
Worked all day wincing. Donna’s claw marks on my back stung the more I worked up a sweat. Janette drove by twice. The second time she cruised by, I walked out to the road and blocked her. She pulled up beside me and rolled down her window.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hello,” she said.
“I’m Gerald.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Hello, Gerald.”
“You’re Janette. How’s Doug?”’
“Fine. Why do you ask?”
“He’s mean,” I said. Her eyes changed. They narrowed and she stared straight ahead. “What do you want?”
“You.”
This got her. She looked back at me. “Can I ask how young you are?”
“Going into grade twelve this September,” I said.
She was checking out my chest and arms. “So young,” she said. “She yours?” she asked and pointed with her chin to Donna walking down the road towards us.
I glanced at Donna quick. I had maybe two minutes to do this. “Nope. Can I ask you something?”
“Better hurry before your lady gets here.”
“She’s not my lady.” I took a big breath. “I got eight inches. How much does Doug got?”
She looked straight ahead again. Why couldn’t she be seventeen? I saw the wrinkles on her face, around her eyes and at the edges of her mouth. She looked weathered. The sag of her neck and the back of her hands gave her age away: “He’s got a lot more than that, since you’re asking.” She lit a smoke, squinted and motioned with her chin, “Look, your little honey’s waving at you.”
I turned. Donna was waving away. There was a wild panic in her eyes. Shit! “She’s a friend.” I had to hurry before Donna arrived. “Doug raped his babysitter, you know.”
“I’ve been told this by everyone I meet here.”
“We’re a Block Parent Community.”
“They couldn’t prove anything.”
“No? Then how come his old lady left him? How come he never sees his daughter?”
“Can we change the subject?”
“Can I see you sometime?”
“No.”
“Please?’
She looked at me. “This is crazy.”
“I’m a great guy,” I said, realizing I was burning across my face.
“I can see that,” she said. “She’s getting closer.”
I looked. Donna was running towards us, her little fists and legs just pumping.
“I have to go,” she said.
“Call me at my house,” I said. “2999.”
She looked away, and I shut the door. She drove away. No double tap on the brakes this time. I couldn’t believe how old she looked up close and wondered if The Slug thought of her being seventeen again when he was plums deep….
Donna walked up to me, panting. Her cheeks were a scorched red, like how they always were in gym class after running laps. “Who was that? She has a boyfriend, you know.”
“I know,” I said. “She’s just saying hi.”
“Well stop it,” she said. “You’re taken.”
“Says who?”
“Me.”
I looked away. I blew it!
“Did you like last night?”
“Sure,” I shrugged and blushed. I couldn’t believe I’d just made a move on a forty-year-old. “It was fun.”
“I think it was more than fun. God, I’m sore and covered
in hickeys.”
How will I ever get out of this? Boss Hog came out of the office and motioned for me to peel more logs.
“I gotta go,” I said.
“Can I help?”
I looked at her and was genuinely touched. Here she was wearing a nice white BUM Equipment pullover and I was covered in spruce gum and she was ready to work with me. “No thanks.” I looked at her and knew in a second that she was ready to marry me, cook for me, clean the house, have a few kids.
“Can we go for fries and a Coke after work?” she asked.
I thought about this. I at least owed her that. “I can be there at five.”
• • •
When I met her, all five of her cousins were there as witnesses. I could totally tell she told them I’d be there. Donna took her
T-shirt off under her pullover. The entire restaurant could see the monkey bites I gave her, and the word was out: Gerald tagged Donna. Film at eleven. Shit. I was a hostage. Janette, save me! Dolly watched me throughout the entire half-hour episode. Suspicious eyes asked, “How long before you hurt her again?”
When I cruised home, there were police outside Janette’s house. Cherries were going and everything. Two social services cars were on the lawn. Man, this was serious. I would’ve pulled over but the road was too skinny. Half the town drove by to get a good filthy look and I had to keep moving or block traffic. I pulled into my driveway and considered walking back to Janette’s to find out what was going on. I was trying to think about what to do when Dad pulled up and wanted me to pluck ducks with him.
“Hear the news?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“See the cops outside that new teacher’s house?”
“Yeah.”
“The Slug strikes again.”
“What?”
“Apparently Doug was starting to abuse that French woman’s daughter.”
Mom hissed when she took her breath in.
“What?”
“Yeah. Apparently he tried something but her girl told on him.”
“Where is he?”
“Jail.”
“What about her?”
“She packed up and left with her girl.”
“What!”
“She’s gone, son.”
The breath left my body and it was like I was watching TV for the next four hours but staring straight ahead. I went in my room and lay on the floor, looking up. I was suddenly so very tired and I dozed off. When I woke, Mom and Dad were gone with a note.
Gone shopping for grub.
Surprise supper at seven.
Love, Mom.
I looked at the clock on the stove. I had an hour. I grabbed my coat and cruised to Janette’s house. I parked down the street and walked back in the grass. No one was around. I went around back and kicked in the door and it was true. All that was left was the furniture.
Upstairs, downstairs, they left traceless. They were gone. Just as I came out of the house, I surprised two kids who went tearing towards the bush.
“Hey!” I yelled and sprinted after them.
They were wearing hoodies and giving ’er, but I kicked the legs out from under one of them and pushed the other one as he ran so he went face first into the willows. Both boys were down and one was crying. I saw blood on their hands. “What the fuck are you guys doing?”
The first boy looked at me and stared hard. “A rape happened here, right? We left the mark.” He pointed back to the house and there were red, bloody hand prints all around the house.
“Jesus,” I said.
I looked at the other boy who I realized was a girl with sheared hair. She was holding her leg and leaving red marks on her pants. “Did you cut yourselves?” I asked.
The boy and girl shook their heads. The boy pointed behind me. Then I saw the open bucket of paint. I got the goose pimples and remembered the handprints I’d seen around town. “You kids go home. You shouldn’t be around a place like this.”
“Were you raped too?” the girl asked.
“What?”
“Were you leaving your mark in the house?”
“No—”
“’Cause you’re supposed to leave it on the outside or else they won’t see.”
“Who—the cops?”
“Torchy and his brother.”
I helped them both up. “Wait. I don’t understand. I’m seeing handprints around town. Are they behind this?”
“We’re behind this,” the boy said. “All of us. Cops won’t do nothing. Parents don’t do nothing. Torchy and Sfen are going to do something about it.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Wait and see,” the boy said.
I shook my head and remembered Janette and her daughter. “I gotta go, but you kids go home, okay?”
They looked at each other and nodded. I felt spooky, like I’d interrupted something wicked and holy—I didn’t know. I left, hopped in the truck and got back to patrolling.
The Cop Shop was busy: two cruisers with their cherries off and CBC North were parked outside as I sped by. I was tempted to just hit the highway, but I wouldn’t even have known where to go, and she had a good four-hour head start on me, and what the hell would I even have said?
“Damn,” I said and punched the dash. “Goddamn this town!”
I cruised and cruised with a death grip on the wheel. I looked at the clock on the dash and headed for home.
• • •
When I walked in, Donna was at the house. She was helping Mom in the kitchen. Surprisingly, Dad was upstairs watching TV. Mom looked at Donna who was wiping the counter.
“You never told me Donna was the one who was calling.”
I looked at Donna. She was blushing and reading my eyes carefully. “I stopped by,” she said, “to give you this.”
I looked. There was a small bowl covered in Saran Wrap.
“It’s yarrow,” she said, “for your arms.”
“Now that’s sweet,” Mom said.
I’m stunned. What the hell was going on here?
“You can put it on after supper,” Donna said. “It’s pretty strong.”
I had to look away.
“What do you say, son?” Dad called from the loft.
“Thank you, Donna,” I repeated and dipped my head. This was almost great, but Janette was gone. She was gone.
“Well,” Mom said, “Supper’s ready. We made your favourite.” She looked at me. “Steak, mashed potatoes and nibblets with lots of onions.”
“That’s a lot of food,” I said, “for four.”
“Oh, we’ve invited Donna’s folks over. It’s been years since Barb and I had a good visit.”
Whoah, I thought. Wait—
“Is your Dad still a quiet dude?” Dad asked.
“Yes,” Donna smiled. “Still quiet.”
“He was always like that,” Mom said and put water on for tea. “Even when we were in school. I guess he only needs your Mom to talk to, hey?”
Donna was looking at me. Her eyes sparkled. “That’s what my cousins say.”
I looked at Donna and my folks. This could work, I thought. Sweetness like hers. Kind eyes. And that simple question: “Can I help?” really got me. I suddenly got this feeling like we could do anything together. She had wanted me for a while and now she had me. She was my first and she could take all of me.
I caught Mom staring at me. She swept the back of her hand with her palm and her eyes asked: is this what you want? I looked at Donna who smiled back and wiped her hands on the dishtowel. This could be my life.
“I remember our first supper,” Mom said, “we were just starting out.”
“You tricked me,” Dad called out from the loft, “and now look at us.”
“Yes, look at you,” Mom said, “a happy, grateful Dogrib man. Now get down here and set the table.”
Donna’s folks pulled into the driveway. I saw her Mom in the cab, putting on some lipstick, while her father took off his sunglasses. I could tell he wanted to be somewhere else. They were dressed up real snazzy. Her Dad wore a buttoned up cowboy shirt and it looked freshly ironed. Donna’s Mom had a suit top on and probably slacks cause she worked for the government. I looked at Donna. She blushed, looking at me, waiting for me to say something. Maybe we can do this, I thought.
“I’ll get the door,” I said to Donna. “Your folks are here.”
“Wait.” She put the dishtowel down and walked across the room. She was smiling, looking into my eyes. She brushed by me, took my hand and faced the door. “We should do this together.”
And we did.