Chapter 13

Canada, Twenty-Eight Years Ago

It wasn’t until the sun disappeared over the mountains, and the temperature dropped that Noshi returned to his family empty-handed. He stomped his feet and slapped his gloved hands together, then crawled into the cave. “I’m sorry, Chepi. I’ll try again tomorrow at first light. How are the children? I’m certain I can find game tomorrow. In fact, I thought I could…” He took one look at Sheshebens and the light drained from his eyes.

Chepi bent her head over her now lifeless son, and whispered, “Daddy’s here. It will be okay now. It’s all going to be fine. We’ll take you home and get you some hot cocoa…”

Northern California, Present Time

“I thought this weekend you and I could take Jimmy’s girls on that fishing trip I promised them. How about a day at Twin Trees Lake?” Mingan said on the phone to Maggie.

“That’d be great. I could use a break from all this tragedy. This business about the Sorenson twins kicked my ass hard.”

“I can imagine. What’s happening to these children is sickening.”

“I need a little time away from it all. A day at the lake would be perfect.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Besides that, I’d like to get to know Bird and Flower better… I’d like to get to know you better, too.”

Maggie’s pulse quickened. And, I would like to get to know you, too, up-close and personal when the time is right. “What about Sunday?” she said.

“I’m Deacon of my church and after services this week I’ve got a mandatory meeting that could take a few hours. How ‘bout Saturday?”

“I work with Jake on Saturday. With that murdering bastard still out there, I don’t know. Sunday is my one day off, and with this investigation, it’s sometimes difficult to get away even then,” Maggie said.

“Well, maybe we can get together the week after,” Mingan’s voice became heavy, “or maybe we should shelve it until the case is solved.”

Maggie’s gut and chest hurt where tiny needles of disappointment pierced her. “Let me check with Jake. Maybe I can get away for a few hours on Saturday morning. Does that work for you?”

After she finished the call, she dialed Jake. Given his open hostility toward the Algonquin, Maggie decided against telling him that she was going anywhere with Mingan. When Jake answered the phone she said, “You think you and Happy can do without me for a few hours on Saturday? I need a little time away with Flower and Bird to relax. I can come in around three.”

“No problem,” he said. “Get some R & R with your nieces. You’ve earned it.”

Maggie hated lying to Jake, but now had to do something even more difficult…ask her nephew, Jimmy, if she could take the girls for a day. She and Jimmy grappled with long-term issues. In addition to their many other differences, aunt and nephew also had a divergence of opinion on how to raise children. From the time the twins were babies, he gave into anything they wanted, which Maggie thought would cause them to grow up with a sense of entitlement. “I know you are compensating for the fact that their bitch of a mother abandoned all of you,” Maggie once said, “but if you keep spoiling those girls, you are going to have one hell of a time when they get to be bratty teenagers.”

“Look, Aunt Maggie, they are my daughters, and I’m responsible for them. Once you’ve raised a few kids of your own, you can tell me how to raise mine, deal?”

That stung. Maggie loved children but knew she’d never have any of her own. She’d given birth to a little girl once, a tiny delicate child with almond shaped eyes and a halo of shiny black hair. Her daughter was born too many weeks premature. She looked perfect, beautiful, but her lungs were undeveloped.

The loss was almost too much for Maggie. She’d never become pregnant again. Jimmy knew it. The little prick. If I didn’t love those girls so much, I’d not have a goddamn thing to do with him.

She didn’t hate Jimmy, but she hated what he’d become. When he was a little boy, the two had been exceptionally fond of one another. But, as he matured into adulthood, aunt and nephew grew apart. He’d lost his joyful buoyancy, and became dark, jaded and sarcastic.

She didn’t get him and he didn’t get her. He was as conservative politically as she was Green Party liberal. He practiced the Yurok religion with the passion of a Dominican monk. She was atheist to the core. He supported the U.S. military presence overseas. She hated anything to do with war and thought the U.S. dead wrong in its foreign military policies.

Her brother, Danny, was disappointed. “Maggie. He’s my only son, and your only nephew. Why don’t you cut him some slack and at least try to make things work?”

But whenever the two of them got together, what would begin as a conversation about something as mundane as the weather would devolve into a shouting match. It got so bad that even Danny couldn’t take it any longer. “You’re both behaving like a couple of first-class jerks, and I won’t have you spoiling everyone else’s good time with your childish bickering.” For several years after, when Danny hosted family dinners, he often did not invite Maggie. It hurt her feelings to be excluded, but she understood.

To make matters worse, like his father, Jimmy was marinated in his native culture and didn’t understand Maggie’s “Celtic obsession,” as he called it. They engaged in many nasty arguments about what he perceived as her turning her back on her own people.

“The Irish are my people, too,” said Maggie, “and yours as well. Don’t ever forget that your Irish grandfather died on Irish soil fighting for what he believed in, and that you are a Sloan.”

“I can’t forget it, Aunt Maggie. That’s all you ever fuckin’ talk about.”

At last, Maggie called a truce so the two of them could at least attend family functions together, and so Jimmy wouldn’t limit her access to Flower and Bird. When Jimmy’s wife had abandoned him with twin toddlers to raise on his own, Maggie stepped in to offer her support. Things got a little better between them, but certain topics were forever taboo. The Native vs. Celtic subject rarely came up between them, and Maggie and Jimmy avoided discussing the subjects of child rearing and politics altogether.

But, these days, the taboo subjects emerged at the most inappropriate times, and in most cases, it was Maggie who threw kerosene on the fire. I wish I could sew my mouth shut when I’m around him, and not let the little snot provoke me. Maybe I wouldn’t live with so many regrets.

When she called Jimmy to ask him if she and Mingan could take Bird and Flower on Saturday morning, he said, “Are you telling me you’re going on a date with that Indian guy everyone saw you flirting with at the Bear Dance?”

“It’s not a date. We’re just taking the girls fishing and for a picnic. I’ll have them home by two.”

“Is this guy part white? Irish maybe? I hear he’s full blooded Algonquin. Of course, that can’t be. You don’t date guys unless they are white, preferably Irish with green eyes.”

Maggie bristled. “Let’s not go there. I already told you this is not a date. I only want to know if it’s all right with you if Mingan and I pick up the girls on Saturday morning for a few hours.”

“Yeah, sure, Aunt Maggie. I was only yankin’ your chain. Come by early and I’ll have a cup of coffee waiting.”