Winter Loon(61)

I had a sinking feeling how this would end. “Yeah. So?”

“So Biboon, he challenges gentle Ziigwan, who didn’t have much of a chance, let’s be honest. Beats him to a pulp, leaves him to die.”

“I get it,” I said. “No chance.”

“You going to let me finish? So Biboon goes back day in and day out, beats poor Ziigwan, until finally defeated, he slinks out of the village. He says to the girl, ‘Giga-wabamin menawah.’ I shall see you again. Everyone laughs. How could he come back?

“Now Biboon is all full of himself, shows what a fierce warrior he is, what a skilled hunter, fights off war parties, kills partridges and deer, all sorts of game. Then one day he returns weary and hungry from a hunting expedition, and there’s Ziigwan, brought back to life and full of vengeance. He attacks Biboon. Savages him, over and over.”

I perked up.

“Now, the table is turned and it’s Biboon who is begging for mercy, Biboon who leaves in shame. With him gone, Ziigwan is able to win the girl’s affection again and there was warmth and beauty all around them. You’re probably thinking, ‘That’s that.’ But it’s not. Biboon returns and the whole thing starts over. Back and forth, back and forth. The fighting, the exhaustion, the retreat. These warriors become so focused on beating each other, they forget what they are fighting for. They did not honor that maiden by fighting over her. You see, Wes? You see?”

Troy hadn’t glanced over at me once while he spoke, choosing instead to focus on an invisible audience who sat quietly, rapt like I was. The words came out one at a time, like he was surprised when the next one appeared, like he hadn’t heard or told the story before. But now he shifted, rested his hand on my shoulder.

“Troy, it wasn’t just Jolene. It was a lot of things.”

“You don’t think I know that? Just listen. So, the poor girl, lonely and in despair, paddles out in a canoe to the middle of the lake, and she tosses herself in. Goes under. Her father calls for her. But nothing. She’s gone. The next morning a water lily appears right where she went in, next to her drifting canoe.”

Another girl lost to a lake. I looked to Troy for any good news. “What about the fighters, Biboon and Zeeg—”

“Ziigwan. Those doofuses keep fighting, year in and year out. Spring, winter. Spring, winter.” He hopped down from the hood, stood up straight, so I did, too. He put his flat palm on my chest and I felt the heat of his knowing. The lines in his face were deep, weathered by sun and wind. “You can waste an awful lot of time fighting. End up hurting innocent people. End up punching yourself, right?”

He put his arm around my shoulder and I sunk into it. “You think she hates me?”

“She doesn’t hate you. Give her time to cool off.”

“You don’t know. I’ve kind of fucked things up.”

“That’s true. Come clean with her. Then you got to fix things with Lester. You got a bone to pick with him, you pick it. Then be done with it.”

“I’ll talk to Lester. Make it right. These are my mistakes to answer for.”

“Without winter, how would we know to welcome spring? No death, no rebirth. Accept the cycle of things. How about I’ll talk to Jolene for you. You come around in a day or two.”

Troy tossed the last of his twig into the alley. In some ways, Troy was like my father, full of himself, full of stories. But where Troy was steady and generous, my father had been mostly unmovable, stubborn even, stingy with affection. Always, my mother and I were trying to earn it. And here was Troy, pulling me into him, hugging me like I’d done nothing wrong. “Take courage,” he said. “Things will work out.”

I tried to hold on to that courage he gave me along with the good feeling of his embrace when I walked back into the house. Ruby was gone. The house was empty. I stood inside, closed my eyes, breathed in the smell of it, trying to suss what it was that made it smell the way it did. It wasn’t animal or vegetable so it had to be mineral—some desiccated amalgam of spilled blood and wishes left for dead. I walked the plank of hallway, disappeared behind the door. I would sleep a day away and dream for hours and hours of spring flowers and girls at the bottom of lily-covered lakes.



THE NEWSPAPER WAS SPRAWLED ON the table in front of Gip the next morning. He was down to four days a week, his winter schedule at the feed mill, which meant he was taking on more shifts behind the bar to make up for the lost wages. And that meant more drinking, more late nights. No wonder my mother hated winter.

“What do you want me to do? I got no clout,” he said. I’d walked into the middle of an argument. “You think I can waltz into that bank and insist they let us stay on? He sits in that office of his. I know he’s there but his girl says I can’t even make an appointment.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere.” Ruby poured more coffee into her cup and planted herself next to him like she was stuck in cement.

He threw the classifieds at her. “Find someplace or we’ll be out on the street.”

She let it fall to the ground, then stomped it with her feet, over and over. “That’s what I think of your classifieds.”

“Don’t just stand there,” Gip said, turning his sights on me.

“What did I do?” I said.

Gip tossed his head side to side, mocking me. “‘What did I do?’ Nothing’s what you did. You’ll have no place either in a couple weeks unless you plan to move onto the reservation. Fat lot of good either of you are. I’m going downtown.”