Chapter 32

Jess walked into the school gym and sat down. The band meeting had started and a few heads turned as his chair’s metal legs scraped against the wooden floor. Chief Duck spoke into the microphone, peering at the crowd through his tinted glasses. He was overweight and his jowls covered his neck. He held the mic too close to his mouth, and each breath echoed in the room, thick with saliva.

“We got to think long-term. Is it the fish that will help our community? Or programs for the young people? If there’s no one left on the reserve, there’s no one to fish anyhow. We lose a lot of our young people to the city. If we got something here for them, maybe they’ll stay.” Jess hid a smile. Some of what Chief said had come straight from Kokum’s mouth. “We tried to fight against their way for a long time. Sometimes it didn’t work out so well. Maybe it’s time to work together, see what happens.”

Someone in the front row raised a hand. Her voice was dwarfed in the gymnasium compared to Chief’s magnified one. “It’s not working together, though. They’re taking, same as always.”

Chief shook his head. “Not really, Susan. We’d be building it with them. They guarantee half the jobs go to our people. And building the community centre, that’s more work for us. We got to do something to keep the young people, eh. Giving them jobs is a start.”

“Where’s it going to be built? Am I going to look out my window and see it?” Madeline St. Clair asked. She’d lived on the river her whole life and still trapped in the winter, selling muskrat and rabbit pelts.

Chief shook his head. The microphone rested on his belly and he leaned back in his chair. “Be about ten miles upriver from your place.”

“What about flooding? What about my house?” she asked. Suspicion tinged her words.

The Chief hesitated and shifted in his chair. “We’d look at the plans. Make sure as few houses as possible need to be moved.”

“I been in that house my whole life. You gonna try and make me move now? Where am I gonna go? Not enough houses as it is.” A murmur of voices broke out. The Chief waited until it died down to speak.

“Hydro’s offering to build houses for all the people who need to move before they start the dam.”

“Bet a Hydro house looks a lot like a trailer,” someone muttered.

Jess could feel the mood in the room shifting, the audience losing faith in their chief. Was he a pawn being used by the government? Did he really want to protect their homes, or had the government offered him money to get the band to agree?

Jess stood up, his breath stuck in his throat as he started to speak. “What about the residential school?” And Tom and all his gang buddies?

“What about the burial ground? They gonna move that too?” Another member spoke up from the back of the room.

“Ah.” Chief hedged his answer. “The school will get torn down. It’s in the designated flood area. But the burial grounds are on crown land.” Chief Duck hid behind his tinted sunglasses. “Hydro will only relocate band-owned burial grounds.”

Jess looked around. He’d thought the offer to tear down the school would be met with gratitude, a way to erase the pain that still hung over the reserve. But to disrespect the graves of those children? His uncle? That wasn’t right.

“Look,” Chief held up his hand. “Maybe we can work something out for the burial ground. Remember, Hydro wants to make our community better in exchange for access to our river.”

“Not access,” Boney shouted. “They’re gonna ruin it. No fishing, flooded banks, homes destroyed.” People nodded at Boney, who sat down, muttering to himself.

Jess looked at Kokum. Even though she stared impassively ahead, her chest rose and fell quickly, as if she was agitated. He wondered if she’d anticipated such hostility from the crowd. He didn’t know any more if the dam was a good thing or not. He thought everyone would be excited to hear about the money and programs the government was willing to offer. Instead, they watched Chief as if he was the enemy, ready to sell them out.

Chief Duck looked relieved when Kokum stood up. She waited until the crowd had quieted before she started speaking, her voice measured and hushed. “Might surprise some of you to know that I think the dam is a good idea. We got to learn from the past. We got to run our reserve like a business. What we got to sell is our resources. We’re lucky. Lots of reserves don’t have anything, and look at them. Forgotten.” She paused, rotating to look at others. “Government might find a way to take the river anyway, and then we get nothing.”

Jess wanted to agree with Kokum, but he thought of the legacy of the residential school. The government had convinced First Nations parents to send their kids away so they could get an education and find jobs. Look how that turned out.

“We all got a lot to think about.” Chief looked at the clock behind him. “We’re gonna table the Hydro issue and move on.”

A few people got up to leave, and for the first time Jess noticed Tom’s dad sitting across from him at the back of the room. He whispered something to one of his brothers, who also turned to look at Jess.

Seeing them ignited a spark in Jess. Kokum and the others wanted what was best for the reserve, but people like Tom and his family wanted to drag it down. He cleared his throat and stood. “Uh, Chief?”

Chief nodded and leaned back in his chair.

“It’s true we got some problems at Deep River for the young people. Like being bored and getting into trouble and that. Like me, eh?” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “The young people want something to do. Otherwise, sniffing, booze, gangs, you know how it is.”

Jess took a deep breath and continued. “Everyone’s talking about Hydro coming and how it’s gonna ruin Deep River. I think a bigger problem is a gang moving in.” He looked pointedly at Tom’s dad.

Chief leaned forward on the table, the microphone butting against his chin. “We don’t have gangs on Deep River.”

“They’re coming.” A shocked murmur rippled through the crowd. “Some of our members are helping them.”

Chief sat at the table, too stunned to say anything.

“You got to send a message. Now, before it gets worse. Anyone living on the reserve who joins a gang, or helps them, isn’t a member any more. Gets kicked off.”

People started to talk, shocked at the severity of Jess’s suggestion. Even someone guilty of murder was still a member of the band. To kick out a member of Deep River was unheard of.

Over in the corner, Tom’s dad snorted. “Been breathing in too much of the gasoline you use for the fires, eh?” He and his brother laughed.

Chief ignored them and said to Jess, “Pretty serious punishment.” He looked at the elders sitting in front of him. “Don’t even know if we can do that.”

“Hold on.” Tom’s dad stood. His voice booming, rough and guttural. “Seeing as how he’s not a member, don’t think he can bring that up, eh, Chief? How ’bout kicking out an arsonist? Bet he doesn’t like that idea, eh?”

“Okay, Monty,” Chief said, “calm down.” He turned to Jess. “Where’d this come from? You got any specific information about gangs on Deep River?”

Jess nodded, his nostrils flaring as he forced himself not to look at Tom’s dad. It was suicidal saying Tom’s name out loud, but it was too late now. If he wanted things to be different on Deep River, this was what it would take.

The words were forming on his tongue when the gymnasium door opened and slammed shut. A man ran to the front of the room and grabbed Chief Duck’s shoulder. He whispered something urgently in his ear and stood back. Chief grabbed the microphone. “The residential school’s on fire.” People looked at one another stunned. “There’s two crews there now, but it’s pretty far gone. We’re gonna adjourn the meeting.”

Jess looked at Kokum. She stared back. With silent understanding, they both rose to leave.