COLE WAS SITTING BY THE BANKS OF SILK RIVER. The moon, large and clear overhead, reflected off the water in a beam of white light. He wove blades of sweetgrass into a tiny ring. He heard himself hum a song his mother had taught him. Another light appeared, looming even brighter than the moon, rising up from one side of the river to the other like a new sun.
Cole stood up and put the ring in his pocket. He saw an eruption of flames half a mile away. The school. He ran towards the fire. The closer he got to it, the hotter the air became, the brighter the night grew. Oh God, no. Please, not my friends. He could hear screaming now—the voices of people trapped inside the flames. Eva. Brady. His mother. He stopped short of the front doors to the school. The heat was too much to bear. He could feel his forearms, neck, and face burning. There had to be another way. He ran back and forth along the front of the school, looking, but there was nothing. He had only one choice. He rushed up the steps, ignoring the burning of his skin, and clothes. He put his hands around the metal handles. Smoke rose from his burning palms. He screamed in pain. Cole pulled the doors open and ran inside, into the flames, down the hallway. This was what Hell was like.
“No!” Cole woke, drenched in sweat, to find the flames were still there.
“I’m sorry, Coley!” The flames moved away from him, and a little arm was hugging him across his shoulders. “I forgot!”
“I shouldn’t have made you hot again.”
Cole wiped at his face, dug his fingertips across his eyelids, and opened them again. Jayne was at his side, half in flames, half normal, just as she had been last night. It was morning now. Light came in through the living-room windows, casting shadows across the carpet. Jayne was looking at him with a large, apologetic smile. He smiled back at her. “It’s okay, kiddo.”
“Who are you talking to?”
Brady and Eva were sitting on chairs across the living room. Brady asked the question. They were in Brady’s grandmother’s living room. He knew the place well, better than most places in Wounded Sky. All of them, including Ashley, and sometimes even Jayne, had spent time here when they were kids. They loved Brady, yes, but Elder Mariah was the coolest Elder they’d ever known. It was comfortable here, and safe. It felt like home for the first time since Cole arrived. He welcomed the feeling until he saw the grief on their faces and remembered what had happened last night.
Ashley was dead.
“You called out Jayne’s name,” Eva said.
Cole tried to straighten up. He cleared his throat. “I was having a nightmare.”
“You were screaming in your sleep,” Brady said.
“Sorry,” Cole said.
“Do you have those a lot?” Eva asked, “Nightmares?”
The ring of sweetgrass he had made her that night was fastened to a thin leather strap hanging around her neck. She noticed him looking at it and tucked it into her shirt.
“Every once in a while,” Cole said.
He reached over with his hand and patted Jayne’s arm, and to Eva and Brady it looked like he was scratching his shoulder.
“Can I stay?” Jayne whispered shyly. “I miss them.”
Cole nodded as subtly as he could, and Jayne, seeing this, gave him a quick squeeze. He liked having her around. Maybe, he thought, every child who died that night was somewhere, at least somewhere, and in that way, maybe he hadn’t failed them all as terribly as he thought.
“I do too,” Eva said, responding to Cole’s admission about having nightmares.
Brady nodded as well. Looking down, he asked, “Do you ever feel guilty about having nightmares?”
Cole took this to mean that anybody could answer. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, at least we’re able to have nightmares.”
The room grew quiet. Cole spent this time looking over at Jayne, counting carpet fibers, glancing at Eva, and exchanging half-smiles with Brady. When Elder Mariah brought him a cup of hot muskeg tea it was a welcome break in the tension. He loved her tea, always had, and it was good to see her.
“Welcome home, Cole.” She handed him the steaming hot liquid. “Drink this.”
Elder Mariah never wasted a word. Cole held the cup under his nose, watched the flecks of vegetation dance across and underneath the surface, and took the earthy, bitter aroma in through his nostrils.
“It’ll help you relax,” she added.
“Thanks.” He took a sip.
She left with little fanfare for Cole, acting like he had never left in the first place. Mariah’s interruption brought them all out of their doldrums, at least momentarily. Eva said that she was going to meet Michael at the diner. Michael wasn’t doing all that well himself.
“We could all go,” she suggested.
Cole perked up. “Even me?”
“I think it’ll help if we’re all together, yeah,” she said.
I’ll take it, Cole thought. When he finished his tea, they made their way over to the diner. Tagging along behind them (skipping, to be specific) was Jayne.
The Fish was wallpapered with framed photographs. Where Cole, Eva, Brady, and Michael sat there was a group of six pictures: a photo of the northern lights, the Hollywood sign, a pyramid, the Statue of Liberty, Easter Island, and, finally, Niagara Falls. Cole observed the pictures like he was in a museum, thoughtfully, ignoring his friends, and eventually Brady asked, “What the heck are you looking at?”
“It’s like these are all places Wounded Sky wished it was, you know?” Cole said.
“I think people who live here appreciate being here,” Eva said.
“Here we go…” Brady said.
“All I’m saying,” Cole said, “is that I don’t think there’s a picture of Wounded Sky in some diner in Chile. That’s all.”
“So we’re not commercialized. So what?” Michael said.
“Can you imagine a Northern Lights Diner franchise?” Brady said.
“No,” Eva said, “but that’s what makes this place so great. It’s ours.”
“Exactly,” Michael said.
Their group, along with Tristan and Maggie—who were sitting one booth over and presently involved in an argument about as discreet as their make out sessions—were the only ones in the diner. They had been met almost instantly by an eager waiter with a bright orange t-shirt, purple pants, black dress shoes, and raven-black hair tied back into a braid. His nametag simply read “C.” C slid Cole’s water over to him, and gave Cole a wink. Cole looked down at C’s shoes and shook his head.
“Choch, I’m guessing,” Cole said. “Nice shoes.”
“They’re Hush Puppies, I’ll have you know.” Choch said to Cole, and then regarded the group. Jayne was sitting comfortably on Cole’s knee, the burning side of her hanging safely away from Cole and both her legs swinging back and forth. “Well, aren’t you all just a sad lot.”
He slid a water past Cole towards Brady, and seemed to intentionally knock over Cole’s glass. Cole, though, was quick to catch it without a drop spilled.
“Watch it, will you?” Cole said.
Choch nodded his head with raised eyebrows and his lower lip sticking out animatedly. “Very nice.”
“What are you doing?” Cole asked under his breath.
Choch touched the side of his nose with his forefinger.
“Now,” Choch said to the table, “what can I get you all? Coffee? Our special?”
“What’s that?” Brady asked.
“I’m glad you asked, my two-spirited friend,” Choch said. “Our special today is the Hungry Man’s Breakfast, a succulent dish of bacon, sausage, hash browns, eggs, rye toast, all stacked six inches high. Oh, and there’s a little slice of orange on it, too. Garnish. Very fancy.”
“We don’t have a special!” Alex shouted out from behind the counter.
“Yes, we do!” Choch chimed back melodically.
“You’re literally making shit up,” Alex said.
“Robby, tell dear Alex that we have a special,” Choch said.
Robby, the chef and owner of The Fish, appeared from the kitchen. He moved robotically, like he was sleepwalking. He said, “We have a special. It’s called The Hungry Man’s breakfast,” then walked back into the kitchen.
Choch looked back at Cole and mouthed, “Jedi mind trick,” and smiled slyly. Cole rolled his eyes. Alex rolled her eyes too. She said, “Whatever,” and started to wipe down the counter.
“I’ll just have a coffee,” Michael said, and after he’d broken the ice, everybody else made their orders. Eva and Brady got coffee as well, and Cole, who realized that he hadn’t eaten since yesterday before he’d caught his plane, ordered eggs and toast. He could’ve finished the special, but thought it’d be weird to the others if he ate a plate so big in light of their friend’s death. Nobody else seemed to have an appetite. Choch took their orders and slunk away with his head down—upset, Cole guessed, that nobody had ordered the special after all the work he’d put into presenting it…and making it up.
“Seriously?” Cole said to the group, surprised that the ridiculous name, the ridiculous man, the ridiculous behaviour, hadn’t caused anybody else at the table the slightest bit of curiosity.
“That’s Choch for you.” Michael shrugged it off.
“And Choch? What kind of name is that even?”
“Oh my god, Cole, you’ve been away so long that you don’t even remember Choch?” Eva asked.
“He’s worked here forever and ever, my friend,” Brady said.
“No, yeah, I know. Totally,” Cole said. “Forever.”
“Forget Choch, forget to text, whatever,” Eva said. “No big deal.”
When they were alone again, Eva slid her hands across the table and patted Brady’s arm. He’d been leaning forward on both forearms, staring blankly at the table.
“You okay, B?” she asked. “Sorry we’ve been arguing about some stupid pictures and Choch.”
“I’m sorry too,” Cole said.
“I don’t know,” Brady said. “It’s just, we didn’t get any time together. I mean, really together. Now he’s gone.”
“Sorry, man,” Cole said.
“Wait. You and Ash?” Michael asked.
“Ashley didn’t want anybody to know,” Eva said to Michael. “I was sworn to secrecy,” she added, apologetically.
“He was happy,” Cole said. “He told me he was happy, if that means anything.”
Brady managed a smile. “It does. Of course it does.”
Eva fired Cole a look, like she desperately wanted to say something, but she was holding back. What did it mean, that look? That he’d been talking to Ashley about such intimate things, and couldn’t as much as text Eva a hello? Would she have said something like that? And what would he say in response? That his phone received texts as well?
“I suppose I’m glad he told somebody about us,” Brady said to Cole. “I don’t feel like a dirty little secret.”
“You guys were good together,” Eva said.
“I just wish I could’ve told my parents about us, to throw it in their faces,” Brady said. “They used to say I’d never be really happy. And that I’d go to Hell.”
“How’s that?” Michael asked.
“Because I’m gay. They have archaic views about it. They didn’t think I could actually have a relationship with anybody that meant anything,” Brady said.
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Eva said.
“They used to talk about sending me away, to the reserves or something. Man me up,” Brady said. “That’s about when I went to go live with nókom.”
“What, because gay men can’t be real men?” Cole said. “Does anybody actually think that way anymore?”
“They do,” Brady said. “They always have, and they always will. And in the end, they kind of won.”
“How so?” Cole asked. “You guys were together, right?”
“We were together, sure, but we were going around like we were ashamed or something,” Brady said. “But he wasn’t ready yet.”
“Your parents didn’t win, B,” Eva said. “You’re proud of who you are, and so are we.”
This was met with nods of affirmation around the table and a pat on the back from Cole.
“No? You and Cole. That’s who knew about Ashley and me,” Brady said to Eva. “That smells like victory to me.”
“They can know about you now, man,” Cole said. “You can tell people. You can tell them that you were happy.”
“Ashley wouldn’t have liked that. He wasn’t ready alive; I’m not going to make him ready now that he’s dead,” Brady said. “Is that stupid?”
Cole and Eva shook their heads. Michael added, “Nah.”
“I could give a flying squirrel what my parents think anyway. It doesn’t matter,” Brady said.
“I think it makes it kind of special, in a way,” Cole said. “You and Ashley will always have that, just you and him.”
“Sure,” Brady said.
“Tell Brady you love him for me.” Jayne whispered needlessly. She could’ve shouted at the top of her lungs and nobody would’ve heard her. She wasn’t as hot right now, or as bright. Cole nodded, and said, “I love you,” to Brady, and Jayne put her head on Cole’s shoulder.
“I appreciate that, thank you,” Brady said, and if he thought it was weird that Cole had said that he didn’t let on.
“We all do,” Eva said.
“I’m bored. I think I’m gonna go play now,” Jayne said.
“Sure,” Cole whispered low enough that only she could hear him.
“A tut, tut,” Choch said to Jayne, wheeling around the corner from the kitchen. Jayne stopped midway into disappearing into a cloud of black smoke. The smoke was sucked back into her, and she was whole again.
“This coffee’s rather cold, you see,” Choch said.
He held it out to Jayne. She placed her burning hand around the cup, and within moments steam began to rise from it.
“Thank you, dear,” Choch said.
Nobody but Cole seemed to hear what Choch was saying or see what he was doing, holding a cup of coffee out into thin air.
“It’s like a dog whistle, sort of,” Choch said to Cole with a wink. He told Jayne she was free to go. Jayne, with great pride in her face for being so helpful, burned brighter. She nodded, and then she disappeared.
Choch, now having allowed everybody at the table to see and hear him, gave everybody their orders, including the reheated coffee. He placed Cole’s plate in front of him, but then inexplicably, and quite deliberately, poured a few drops of water from the ice water he’d brought Cole (which Cole had not ordered) onto the back of Tristan’s shirt.
Tristan and Maggie had been bickering since Cole, Brady, Michael, and Eva sat down. They’d all tried to ignore the argument.
Tristan stood up and looked at the cup of water menacingly, which Choch had neatly placed on the table by Cole’s eggs and toast. Cole decided now would be a good time to stand up too. He was staring right at Tristan’s chest. He craned his neck upward.
“Again, Harper?” Tristan said.
“Wow,” Cole said. “I feel like you’ve grown three feet overnight.”
“What’s your deal, punk?”
“Nothing. No deal,” Cole said quickly.
“You’ve gone from being a fake-ass hero to a prankster?” Tristan asked.
Cole could see that his fist was clenched. That wasn’t good.
“I didn’t do that, really,” Cole said.
“The hell you didn’t,” Tristan said.
“He fully did,” Choch whispered, secretly pointing at Cole for Tristan’s benefit.
Tristan cocked his fist and thrust it towards Cole’s face. Cole, before he even realized it, caught Tristan’s fist and squeezed. Tristan let out an awful scream. He yanked his hand away from Cole’s grip, and nursed it with his other, uninjured hand.
“Whoa…” Alex stopped cleaning to watch the altercation. “Awesome.”
“Alex,” Michael said, as a father might.
“Michael,” Alex said in a precise imitation of Michael, then returned to her work.
“What the…” Tristan met eyes with Cole, and Cole, unsure of what he’d just done and how he’d done it, smirked. “Let’s go, Mag Pie,” Tristan said to Maggie, without looking away from Cole.
Moments later, the group settled back down. Cole was trying his best to ignore Choch, who was shooting him these comically proud looks. He didn’t know Choch’s plan, but Cole wanted nothing more than to leave the diner before Choch decided to do something else, especially if these little interventions were escalating from spilling a cup to dripping water down a giant’s back. What was next?
“Cole, what are they feeding you in Winnipeg?” Brady asked.
“That was crazy,” Michael said.
Cole shoved a whole egg into his mouth, wiped his lips, then stood up from the table.
“I think I better go.”
Eva grabbed his forearm, squeezed it. “Nobody here thinks that about you.”
“Thinks what?” It felt like a bad time for a breakthrough with Eva.
“That you’re some fake,” Eva said, “or whatever.”
“But you’re all looking at me like they look at me,” Cole said.
“That’s just because you pulled some Matrix shit right now,” Michael said.
“Come on,” Cole said, “everybody thinks that about me.”
“I might be pissed at you, Cole, but that’s just not true,” Eva said. “Brady and me, we’re both here because of you. I know that.”
Brady cleared his throat. “I know it too.”
“Guys, I don’t even believe what happened that night,” Cole said. “How could any of you?”
“But I saw you do it,” Brady said. “As sure as we’re all sitting here.”
“You saw me do what?” Cole asked.
“Lift an entire wall to save us.”