Chapter 39
That night, I could see the women’s fire, a quivering point of light on the other side of the channel that lay between us and the island.
Ollie saw it, too. After he’d feasted on pasta that Stan had rehydrated—I refused to help in any way—smoked a White Owl, and had a good amount from the bottle of Canadian Club that was still in his own gear, Ollie said, “The fun begins tomorrow.”
I was tied again to a jack pine. My hands were bound, but Stan had been willing to let me keep them on my lap rather than behind my back.
I’d told him how uncomfortable that was, and he’d acknowledged it.
Maybe it was simple guilt because of the dead man, the broken promise, and the prospect of what he couldn’t stop his brother from doing if, in fact, they were able to catch up to the women.
Before he crawled into his tent, Ollie closed the food canister and set it next to me.
“Another bear shows up, I want him to tear into you, not me.” He gave a little snarl of a laugh, then grabbed the life vest I’d thrown on the ground.
“This’ll make a good pillow.” He disappeared into the tent and was soon snoring up a storm.
Stan sat by the fire, feeding it from the wood I’d gathered.
“Not tired?” I asked.
“Could you sleep with that noise?” He nodded toward the tent. “Sleep apnea. I’ve told him it’s hard on his heart. And good luck finding a woman who’ll put up with that. Probably part of the reason he’s already had three wives.”
“Take my hammock. I’m clearly not going to use it.”
That was an idea that intrigued him. “Just hang it anywhere?”
“I’d suggest far enough away that your brother’s snoring won’t be an issue.”
“I think I will. Thanks.”
He still looked like a man much troubled.
“Got something on your mind?” I asked.
“The women on the island. If that’s what my brother wants, that’s what he’ll take for himself.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I want to get to Canada as fast as possible. I know what you’ve been doing.
Making our lives as miserable as you can.
Dragging your feet until you could figure out how to be rid of us for good.
Hell, you tried to get us killed today. I get that.
If I was you, I’d probably be doing the same thing.
” He threw a stick into the fire. “I don’t want Ollie hurting anyone else. Killing anyone else.”
“Stand up to him.”
“Easier said than done.”
“You did it tonight.”
“Because he really didn’t want to paddle anymore. Tomorrow morning he’ll be fresh.”
“Those floatplanes are a pretty clear indication the authorities are trying to track you down. If he takes time messing with those women, it’ll delay you both getting to Canada.
That seems a reasonable enough argument.
And here’s another. If he intends to harm them, he’ll have to go through me first.”
“Believe me, he wouldn’t think twice about doing that.”
“Then it’s up to you.”
He grabbed another stick to feed the flames but stopped and stared wide-eyed at the far side of our campsite. I looked there, too, and saw what had grabbed his attention. From the dark among the trees, two eyes reflected the light of our fire and glowed yellow.
“Stay calm,” I said quietly to Stan. “And no sudden movements.”
A moment later, the wolf stepped cautiously into the light and stood staring at us.
He was a gray wolf, a large male. I judged him to be six feet from nose to tail and weigh well over a hundred pounds.
Wolves typically avoid humans, unless they’re forced into an encounter by hunger.
But this male looked healthy, well fed. So he wasn’t eyeing us as food.
“What… what should we do?” Stan whispered.
“Nothing,” I said. “This is a good sign.”
Stan risked taking his eyes off the wolf for a moment to look at me with disbelief. “Good?”
“I’m Ma’iingan, Wolf Clan. We’re brothers.”
“Is it… hungry?”
When any canine, wolf or domesticated, eyes you steadily, without a tail wag as a friendly gesture, it can seem threatening. But I felt nothing like that from the wolf.
“Boozhoo, brother,” I said in a calm voice.
The wolf had been watching Stan. Now his glowing yellow eyes turned to me. Henry Meloux, that wise old Mide, had often looked at me in the same way, as if peering all the way down to my soul. The wolf made no move toward me, simply stood his ground.
Stan had the Glock in his hand, and slowly he brought it to bear on our visitor.
“He’s not here to harm us,” I said. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
I was glad Ollie had gone into the tent and it was Stan confronting our visitor. Ollie would have made a huge mess of things. Stan, although clearly shaken, was far more prudent.
“Should I yell at it or something?” Stan said. “Scare it away?”
“Just be with it,” I said.
The wolf turned his muzzle toward the tent where Ollie slept and lifted his nose as if taking in the scent given off by that foul man. Then he raised his head and gave one long howl.
“Huh?” Ollie said from inside the tent. “What the hell?”
The wolf turned and, in an instant, had vanished.
“Nothing,” Stan told him. “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”
For a long while, Stan watched the darkness that had swallowed the wolf as if he was afraid the magnificent animal might return. Or maybe he was hoping.
“Has that ever happened to you before?” he finally asked.
I nodded. “Like I told you, wolves are my brothers and sisters.”
“That’s…” He paused searching for the right word, I thought. I figured he’d call it malarky, but at last he said, “That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced.”
“Things happen in these woods that can change a person forever.”
“Ma’iingan.” He seemed to look at me in a new light. “You’re Indian?”
“My grandmother was full-blood Iron Lake Anishinaabe.”
“The other Indian… Cordell,” he said, finally using the man’s name. “Are you related?”
“On the rez, almost everyone has some kind of family relationship, cousins of one kind or another. But Cordell and I are just friends from way back.”
“You were willing to risk your life to save him. I don’t know a single person who’d do that for me.” He looked toward the tent. “Except my brother. He’s a lot of things I don’t like, but he’s always done his best to protect me.”
“Got you into some pretty hot water here,” I pointed out.
“We were just supposed to get hold of what was due us.”
“Without regard to who gets hurt along the way.”
“No one was supposed to get hurt.”
“Does that include Crispin?”
“It was his choice to clam up. And I told my brother to go easy on him. But he’s like a steamroller once he gets his mind set on something.”
“Like the two women?”
“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen, I promise.”
I figured he meant it, but I’d seen the steamroller that Ollie could be, and I didn’t hold out much hope for Stan keeping that promise.
“Hey,” I said. “Look at the sky.”
Above the lake, the northern lights had begun to dance, rippling sheets of red and blue and green shot through with streaks of white. The brilliant display was mirrored on the still surface of the lake, and it was as if both heaven and earth were part of a cosmic celebration.
“My god,” Stan said. “I’ve never seen them before.”
“But you live in Canada.”
“In Toronto. At night, the city lights drown out the sky.” He stared upward, and in the firelight, his face seemed like that of a delighted child.
“You know where those lights come from?” I asked him.
“Something to do with magnetic fields around the earth.”
“That’s the white man’s thinking. The Anishinaabeg have a different explanation.
They call the display waawaate. But I have also heard it called waasenoode, which roughly translates to ‘heart light,’ meaning the light from the heart of Mother Earth.
The lights are the dancing spirits of those who’ve taken to the Path of Souls, our ancestors.
It’s a beautiful way for them to show that they are still with us. ”
“That sounds so much better than magnetic fields,” Stan said with a smile.
He turned his face to the sky, and for the next hour, in complete silence, we enjoyed the show.