Chapter 16

Jess imagined what it would look like engulfed in flames. He’d start with the far corner of the garage and watch as the fire stretched like the tendrils of a vine toward the roof. The dry wood would crack and pop, and in the end, a skeleton of the garage would be left, blackened and broken, just a picked-over carcass. His fingers itched. All day, he’d been thinking about it. Maybe he should just give in now, go somewhere closer to the reserve and light a small brush fire.

But the problem wasn’t the temptation of the garage. Talk of the residential school, the moccasins, had resurrected memories of his father, memories he wished he could keep buried.

As soon as he’d held the moccasins in his hands, he knew Kokum had made them. Her signature leaf design, the beaded tendrils, one for each of her children, curled out from the centre flower. The pair Jess wore when he was a child had looked the same.

So why did Sara Jean’s grandfather have them? The question burned in his mind, singeing the edges of his thoughts.

“Hey, Jess,” a voice whisper-called to him from the poplar windbreak. “Jess!”

“Who is it?” He walked toward the trees, through tall, straw-like grass.

“It’s me.” Tom Deerchild appeared. He had a cut on his forehead and a fat lip. The rest of his face looked puffy, already red and blue and about to turn purplish.

“Shit. What happened?” Jess took a wide stance. He didn’t want Tom getting too close to Sara Jean’s house. Better he stay hidden in the trees.

“Some guys came to find me last night. From the city.”

Jess winced. “How’d they find you?”

“Just knocked on someone’s door. Said they were visiting. Took me out for a drive and left me a couple miles away.”

“Fuck! I told you this would happen!” Jess wanted to punch something. Adrenaline rushed through him. “Why the hell do you want to get mixed up with those guys?”

Tom looked like he might cry. Hanging his head, he couldn’t speak.

“What do they want you to do?” Jess balled his fists and steadied his voice. He didn’t want Sara Jean to come outside. He didn’t want to see her expression when she saw some kid from the reserve with a messed-up face.

“They want to deal on the reserve. Cook out at the old school.”

A meth kitchen. Jess swore again. If Tom had been closer, he would have hit him. “You brought this shit here, Tom. You clean it up.” Jess was ready to walk away, but turned back. “Wait. Tell ’em about the new hydro dam. There’s going to be Mounties and government pricks all over the place. No way starting up now is a good idea.”

“We’re getting a dam?”

“Soon as Chief agrees.”

Tom nodded his head, his eyes wild and scared, like a hunted deer. “Okay, I’m gonna do it. You gonna back me up though, right? I can let ’em come to you if they don’t believe me.”

Jess ran a hand through his hair. “Why do I gotta get mixed up in your shit? Just go tell ’em.” Tom backed away and had almost disappeared when Jess called to him. “Don’t ever show your boney ass near here again!”

Jess looked around, wondering if any of Sara Jean’s neighbours had seen Tom.

How could Tom be so stupid? What did he think would happen if he invited gangs to Deep River? If the hydro dam didn’t go through, the gang would be back. They might be back anyway, not caring about some white guys hanging around. He wanted to tell Kokum, but what could she do? She was right, the change had to come from the young people now. It was up to Jess and his friends. The thought sent a fireball to his gut.

Cracking his knuckles, he felt the familiar itching and fidgeting in his fingers return. Just one small dumpster fire, he promised himself. He needed to gain control of the situation and that was the only way he knew how.