Up Ghost River (11 page)

“She's beautiful, isn't she?” he said in Cree, squeezing my leg.

“Yeah. Do you want to get out?”

“Not yet,” he said. “I just want to sit here and enjoy it with you.”

“Okay.”

We watched the river for a while. The sun glittered along the water like raindrops of light. Mr. Pasko hugged me, and it made me feel warm inside.

“You know, this reminds me of my place in Montreal.”

“Where's that?”

“Down south.”

“Oh.”

“It's the most beautiful city in all of Canada. Maybe in all of the world.”

“Oh.”

“You should see it. You'd like it.”

“I don't think my parents would let me.”

“Sure they would. Other boys have been there.”

“They have?”

“Yup. They got to stay there all summer.”

“Did they have fun?”

Mr. Pasko laughed. “Of course. Lots of fun. That's where my boys grow up. Become real men.”

I kept looking for Mr. Pasko after that whenever I was out in the yard or between my lessons. I knew he did our grocery deliveries, but I didn't see him. I waited for a few weeks, and then I heard that he was
going away for a while. A boy who had graduated from St. Anne's a few years ago was going to manage his store.

I was disappointed. Mr. Pasko had told me not to tell anyone about our outing in case the other boys became jealous. But if he was away, maybe it was okay. The other boys couldn't become jealous because he wasn't here. I told Amocheesh about it over lunch.

“Last week I went with Mike Pasko to the river,” I said.

“Really? That's cool. I wanna go sometime. What did you do?”

“We drove down to the water. And we listened to the radio together.”

“Did you catch anything?”

“No. We didn't go fishing.”

“Really? He took Brandon fishing.”

“He did? Brandon?” I couldn't believe it. Why did he take him? Brandon was mean.

“Yup. He caught a big pike.”

“When?”

“I dunno. Maybe a month ago. Everyone was talking about it.”

“They were?”

“Yeah. Brandon was bragging big time. He really liked it.”

“Why'd he pick him?”

“I dunno. 'Cause he's older, I guess.”

I had felt special before, like someone cared about me. Now I felt small and alone again.

I went home for Christmas. It was nice, but different from the previous Christmas. My family got stuck in the bush because the ice was too thin for the dogs to go very fast, so I had to stay at St. Anne's for five extra days. When I finally got home, on the day before Christmas, Mary-Louise had a high fever, so Mama and Papa went back and forth between home and the infirmary. I tried to find a time to talk about everything I had been through, but they were too worried about the baby. Sometimes, I heard Mama on her knees saying things like “Please, Jesus. Please don't take another one.”

On the morning that I was scheduled to go back, I got a terrible stomach ache once again. I heard Mama and Papa talking about it.

“Should we take him to the infirmary?” Mama asked Papa.

“What happened last time?”

“The doctor said it was ‘pre-school nerves.' ”

“What's that mean?”

“He said it was all in his head.”

“Did he think it was serious?”

“No.”

Papa came up to crouch beside me on my furs. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I don't know, Papa.”

“Where does it hurt?” I pointed to my belly. He put his hand on my belly and began to rub. I could feel warmth radiating from his hand to my heart. “Does that feel better?”

“A bit.”

“My boy,” he said. “You're going to be fine.”

At school, Tony came up to me at first break.

“Guess what?” he said.

“What?”

“Mr. Shaw is coming next week!”

“I've heard that before.”

“No, this time it's for real. I heard it from Father Lavois.”

“What if his flight is delayed?”

“Well, then he'll rearrange.”

“We'll see.”

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said. A heavy feeling of dread had settled over me since I'd walked in the door.

“Cheer up, brother.”

On the day that Mr. Shaw arrived, Sister Wesley went through our bedroom closet where the clothes were kept in numbered cardboard boxes. She took out all the torn and worn uniforms, which she put in bags. In their place, she put new numbered uniforms. When she was finished, she began the bed-wetting inspection. This time, she didn't hit any of the boys, just took any soiled underwear and put it in her bag and told us to find new ones in the closet.

On the way to chapel, Tony caught up with me. He began to talk, even though it was against the rules.

“If I'd known Sister Wesley would do that, I'd have pooed my pants.”

I laughed. Maybe Brandon was right: maybe Mr. Shaw was going to make everything better.

At breakfast that day we were served a big portion of scrambled eggs and bacon. I had never eaten bacon before, and at first I found it salty but as I ate, I liked it more. I wanted extra, although I wasn't so dumb as to ask, after what had happened on my first day of school.

At playtime, no one got whipped, even when Nicholas, a new boy who was in my year and from Fort Albany, began to play throwing stones. Normally we were told off when we played the games that we grew up with. The nuns said they were too dangerous. This time, when Nicholas threw a rock at the tree at the edge of the yard, Sister Wesley didn't say a word. So then he threw a stick up into its branches and began trying to knock it down with some stones. Soon Amocheesh and Joe had joined in too. I held back. I still wasn't sure what would happen. I glanced at Sister Wesley, who stared at us all. I wondered why she didn't come over and cuff our ears. Maybe she was waiting for the right moment.

After the bell rang we went to our lesson. Brother Goulet was filling in for our Grade 2 teacher, Sister Camille, and speaking to us in English. I understood some of the words now. He kept looking at the classroom door expectantly. Mr. Shaw still hadn't arrived, so the brother took out a Cree prayer book and we shut our eyes. “Oh merciful God: have mercy on all Jews, Turks, infidels and heretics and also upon all those heathen nations, on whom the light of Thy glorious Gospel hath not yet shone: especially the Indians of this continent.” We heard a knock and I opened my eyes.

“Come in,” Brother Goulet said in English. A man wearing a grey suit and brown shoes walked in. “This is Indian Agent Shaw,” the brother said in Cree. “Say ‘Hello, Mr. Shaw,' ” he instructed. We had been taught the English phrase “Hello, Mr. Shaw” for the occasion and we repeated the words. I looked around the classroom. Tony was a few desks away. He gestured that he was passing me a piece of paper. I shook my head no.

“He's come all the way from North Bay to see us. Isn't this a wonderful treat, boys?” he said in Cree.

“Yes,” we said in English in unison. Tony had ignored me, and finished the note, and now it was making its way across the rows. The girl next to me, Dayness, put her hand on my desk and unveiled a crumpled ball.

“Number Fifteen!” Brother Goulet said in Cree. “What's in your hand?”

“Nothing,” I said nervously, in Cree.

“In English?” he said. I had been taught the word but couldn't remember, and I was starting to panic. “It's ‘nah-THING,' ” Brother Goulet said. He looked at Mr. Shaw knowingly, and explained what had happened.

“Come here and bring it with you,” he said in Cree. I got up from my desk and slowly walked to the front. “Open your hand,” he said in Cree. I unfurled my fingers. Tony had drawn two stick figures. It was hard to say, but it looked like one was whipping the other. Brother Goulet looked at it, raised his eyebrows and scrunched it into a ball.

“Gharbahje,” he said. He turned to me and started speaking in Cree. “Don't let this happen again.”

“Sorry, Brother Goulet,” I said in Cree. I glanced around the classroom to the spot where they kept the whip. It wasn't there. I waited for him to ask me to go and get it. Instead he motioned his hand like he was flicking away a piece of dust, and I returned to my seat.

—

“You hear?” Joe said. Tony and I were in the playground. “Ed drew a picture making fun of Brother Goulet and he didn't even get in trouble!”

“Course I heard, dummy,” Tony said. “It wasn't Ed. It was me.”

“You're cool.”

“Whatever,” he said.

Joe hesitated. “So you wanna play throwing stones?” he asked, gesturing to the boys at the edge of the yard who were trying to hit the stick out of a lone jack pine tree.

“Not now,” Tony said. “We're busy.” He put his arm around my shoulders and stared at Joe, waiting for him to leave. After a few moments, Joe got the message.

“Let's go to the woods,” he said, when Joe was out of earshot.

“No way.”

“They won't do anything with Mr. Shaw here.”

“Yes they will.”

“No they won't. You saw what happened with the picture.”

“So.”

“You're like a wemistikoshiw trapper. Wuss.”

“No, I'm not.”

“Yellow legs.”

“Stop that.”

“Come on then!” Tony said. He glanced at Sister Wesley and began to make his way across the icy yard.

“What are you doing?” I hissed, but I followed him. “She can still see us.”

He didn't reply, just kept walking. “This is dumb!” I whispered hoarsely as I followed. He quickened his pace, crossed into the icy fields beyond the yard, and began to make his way toward the forest. I ran quickly, sinking into his snowy footsteps.

“We have to keep going,” he said, once we got to the spruce forest.

“Where?”

“We have to go to the bush.”

“Why?”

“We can't go back. They'll give us the electric chair. Or put us in the basement.” The basement was where they put boys who'd been really bad. It was unlit and didn't have a toilet. It was full of rats. After being locked in there, boys cried at night for weeks.

“What?! Wait! I can't!”

“Yes you can. We need to head northwest. Then we can find my mama and papa.”

“But I'm cold.”

“We can make a fire when we're farther away.”

“We don't have anything to eat.”

“We can catch some fish.”

“What if we freeze?”

“We won't.”

“But they will come and find us. We've left footprints. Then we will be in even more trouble.”

“We're already in trouble.”

“You said that they wouldn't do anything with Mr. Shaw here.”

“Well, maybe. But he'll be gone by tomorrow.”

“You lied to me.”

“I was giving you courage.”

“I don't care. I want to go back.”

“We can't. They'll whip us and put us in the electric chair.”

“If we keep going, they'll come and find us and it will be worse. They'll whip us and we'll bleed and bleed.”

“No …” He began speaking but then caught himself. He seemed to slump, as if the fear had turned to defeat.

“It's not fair,” he said quietly.

We didn't want to be seen hanging about the school, so we stayed out by the trees until we heard the bell marking the end of lessons. Then we hurried to the school. I was afraid that we would be caught as we crossed the field, and I watched for Sister Wesley as I ran but couldn't find her in the yard. Then I caught sight of Sister Wheesk, who was playing pat-a-cake with some of the boys. We ran to the opposite corner of the playground. As soon as we got to the gravel, we bent over to catch our breaths.

“There you are!” Amocheesh said. “Everyone was looking for you.”

“We were just getting some air,” Tony said.

“You guys are in such trouble. Everyone thought you'd run away. Sister Camille did the register at the beginning of class.”

“What did she say?”

“Nothing, with Mr. Shaw here. She just pretended that you guys were ill. But he'll be gone by tomorrow.”

They waited for a few days to punish us. Perhaps they hadn't decided how best to teach us a lesson. Or they thought that Mr. Shaw would come back. Tony and I talked about it during the breaks.

“What are they waiting for?” I wondered.

“How should I know?” he said.

I glanced about. It could happen at any time. I tried to remember what my dad had taught me about being brave. You needed to be as courageous as a mother bear with her cubs, he said. That was one of the Seven Sacred Teachings.
²
You need to stand, unafraid, and fight to the death. But what if they killed me? I bit my lip, trying not to cry.

On the day that we were punished, excitement ran through the room like a snake through dry grass. None of the nuns had announced anything, but it was as if the news travelled through air. The other boys were staring at Tony and me.

It started during the bed-wetting inspection. I tried to remember the Cree story about the courage of the Mother Bear but every time I thought about it, I saw Sister Wesley's face on top of the sow's body. The she-bear creature had angry eyes, and she was nothing like the animal in Papa's teaching.

After breakfast we were supposed to go and play in the playroom, but Sister Wesley took Tony and me into one of the classrooms, which was empty except for Father Gagnon. Father Gagnon began to talk, with Sister Wesley translating.

“Why did you do it?” Father Gagnon asked Tony.

“Do what?”

“You know what I'm talking about! Run away!”

“We didn't run away,” Tony said.

“Don't answer me back, Number Fifty-Nine!”