“William! Good to see you!” said the Max Taggart that liked people. After also waving to John and Elmer and glancing at Summer, John tried to listen in to what William and Max were talking about.
John realized Max was obviously curious about Summer, wondering what she was doing with the Diefenbakers. William explained what had happened, although the store owner had certainly heard about the murder of Hans Schneider, just like everyone else in town.
Max’s voice was very low at first, and John couldn’t hear every word.
“Are you sure? Innocent?” he asked skeptically.
William nodded. “Of course. There has to…explanation,” William replied quietly, too, obviously happy Summer was out
of hearing range. It bothered John that most people assumed that River’s Voice was guilty. He knew that it had something to do with the community mistrusting Indian people. Few people liked Hans Schneider. On the other hand, he was white, not Indian. This unfairness frustrated John.
Max raised his voice slightly now and John could hear the conversation better.
“…a tragedy, that’s what it is. You know, I hate to talk out of school, so to speak, but I just wonder if Gertrude’s going to be able to clear this debt off.”
“Debt?” William asked obligingly.
Max nodded. “They weren’t doing so well, financially. It’s hard for everyone but they seemed to have an especially hard time, after that fire last year knocked off half their crop. Lucky you weren’t swept up in that, too.” William nodded his head. “I remember.”
Max pulled on the ends of his long dark moustache, which curled at the ends. “Yes, I felt sorry for them so I started to run a tab. I finally had to quit, though, because they just weren’t making an effort to pay me back. Old Hans wasn’t too happy with me, but you know what? I wasn’t too happy with him either. I mean, times are tough for everyone, right? I tried to do them a favour but I’m not running a bank here.”
“It was nice of you to try and help out,”
William said diplomatically.
This seemed to satisfy Max a great deal. He helped William find the various supplies he needed to take back to the homestead. Mary had given him a small list that included coffee, flour and a few canned goods, as well as grain for the chickens. Although John, Elmer, and Summer lingered at the counter near the candy sticks, William was firm.
“Sorry you three, there’s no money for that today,” William said.
Max, feeling generous, reached over for the jar of red-striped candy sticks.
“If it’s okay with you, William,” he said looking his way “then it’s on me today. How does that sound?”
Elmer and Summer looked with anticipation at William, who nodded and gave them a wink.
“Yes, thank you! Yes, please!” said the two of them with looks of delight on their faces.
Max held the jar in front of Elmer and then John but seemed to pause for the briefest of moments before holding it in front of Summer.
“Thanks, Max,” said William, “that’s generous of you.”
“Not at all, not at all,” he replied.
“Okay everyone, let’s get going,” William said, as they all said goodbye and walked down the wooden steps toward their wagon.
Max Taggart stood near the door and muttered quietly to
himself, pulling on his long moustache.
***
When the wagon and Summer, on her majestic Pinto, arrived at the Diefenbaker homestead, the sun had already fallen significantly from its high perch in the sky. The heat didn’t waver in intensity, hanging in uncomfortable humidity. The sky was dark to the west but it still seemed to be a distant concern.
Ed Diefenbaker was busy working outside on the new well that had to be built. Mary Diefenbaker was chopping vegetables outside on a makeshift table in a shaded area, where she had escaped the confines of her tiny, dark kitchen.
Prairie Dancer dutifully walked alongside the wagon for the five mile trip from the Long River reservation where the Diefenbakers had travelled for Summer to pick up clothing and other things that she would need for her week-long stay. When she asked William if her masinasowatim could come—Cree, for Pinto—he thought about it and couldn’t think of any reason to say no, as long as she took care of the mare herself. This was good news for John and Elmer, who delighted in the idea of horseback riding with Summer, at least during the times when Skipper and Blue weren’t needed to pull the wagon.
If John and Elmer could be considered good riders, John thought to himself, Summer was even better. Summer had
owned the horse since she was three years old. It didn’t make a difference how hard times got, her father had promised her that they would never sell the horse. He had kept his word. Prairie Dancer was her pride and joy.
Summer jumped down from her mare with a grin on her face and waved to Mary and then to Ed, who was farther away. John realized that with all the trouble her father was in, staying with friends must be a welcome diversion for her.
Mary smiled and welcomed Summer, giving her a warm hug. John and Elmer quickly took over the task of unhitching Skipper and Blue from the wagon, something they had mastered long ago. John waved Summer over towards them so that the three of them could work on cooling down the horses. They grabbed some brushes and chatted excitedly while the adults unloaded the supplies.
Mary fussed over the goods that William had brought home and she soon let him know what mistakes he made shopping. Ed, who had since joined them, gave William a sympathetic look and then appeared amused as he reached down for the tail ends of his shirt and used them to wipe his sweaty face.
Mary didn’t waste any time reminding the boys of their promises to catch up on their chores.
“You’re lucky you’ve now got an extra pair of hands to help out,” she called out, referring to Summer.
“I get Summer for my chores!” John called out.
“No way!” said Elmer. “I need her!”
“Summer can take turns helping you both out,” said Mary sternly. “And don’t talk about the girl like she’s a farm tool, either!”
“Yes, Mother,” the boys said, almost at the same time. John, Elmer, and Summer finished their brushing and then set the three horses out to pasture in the north field.
***
All the chores, other than cleaning out the animal paddocks, were done by seven o’clock. Mary told them to get cleaned up for supper and finish afterwards. Once everyone sat down, they joined hands and recited their prayer of grace. Everyone enjoyed Mary’s meal—wild duck that Uncle Ed had shot early that morning, with potatoes and small carrots. For a special treat, in anticipation of Summer coming, Mary had also baked a Saskatoon berry pie, made with the large berries that had an apple-like flavour. Summer shared that the Cree name for the berry was misaskwatomina. It was one of her favourite fruits.
“Mother, thank you for this delicious dinner,” John said, as he leaned over and gave her a one-armed hug. The others mumbled and nodded in agreement with their mouths stuffed with food. It seemed like everyone just wanted to avoid talking about Summer’s father, if only for the first night.
Summer felt so welcome at the Diefenbaker table. She spoke about her life on the reservation, and how the adults struggled to make a good life for their children. Although Chief Five Hawks worked hard, nothing seemed to ever change. The Diefenbakers could relate to struggling to get by on the farm. They added how difficult it was to get a fair price for wheat after the harvest.
“The sky looks strange tonight and the air is so heavy and sticky,” said William, glancing out at the eerie glow of the falling sun. “I think Mary’s right. We’re in for a storm.”
Ed pushed his plate away as he finished and nodded in agreement at his brother’s comment. “That’s alright, we need the rain,” he said. “Looks like we’ll have a pretty good crop this year.”
Everyone smiled at the thought of a good harvest and then the clean-up process began. After the table was clea
red, Mary shooed her boys and Summer out of the house. It was time for the children to finish their daily chores. Summer enjoyed the evenings with John and Elmer, even though it meant cleaning out the animals’ paddocks.
“What do we do tomorrow?” asked Summer, wiping a few stray hairs away from her eyes. She seemed to be enjoying everything, simply because it wasn’t part of her normal routine.
“Probably the same thing,” said Elmer miserably.
“Great!” said Summer while John and Elmer glanced at each
other and shook their heads.
The animals seemed restless—even the oxen and not much usually bothered them. John chalked it up to the lightning flickering far away.
***
After putting in a hard day’s work, Ed fell promptly asleep that night. Although John and Elmer had worked hard, too, they lay on their backs with their eyes wide open, heads resting on the folded blankets they used for pillows. John was in his usual place, his single wooden bed shoved against the north wall of the tiny homestead. Elmer was right below him camped out on the floor. They both stared at the tiny window in front of them, watching the distant lightning play about the sky. As they stared at the ribbons of fractured light, Elmer sat up on one elbow and leaned over to John, sensing he was still wide awake, too. “John?” he whispered.
“Yes?” John whispered back, leaning over on one elbow too. “Do you think Summer will get to come back during the harvest?”
“I don’t know,” said John. “We could ask Father and Mother. She did last year, remember?”
Elmer nodded but it was too dark for John to see.
“John?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think all of us will get to go to Langham later this week when Mother sells her butter?”
“I hope so,” said John, whispering.
“John, if they say River’s Voice did you-know-what and he has to stay in jail for a long time, do you think Summer can always live with us?”
“He didn’t do it,” said John quickly.
“I know that,” said Elmer. “I said what if they say he did?” he repeated.
“Probably not, Elmer. She still has family, you know.” As much as he loved the idea of Summer staying with them, John disliked the idea of someone getting blamed for something they didn’t do.
“I don’t want to think about that right now, Elmer,” John complained. “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you try to help me figure out who really did it and then we won’t even need to have this conversation?”
“You mean, like, solving it…like the police do?” he clarified.
“Yes,” said John. “Like the police.”
Elmer gave this some thought. “Summer would want to help, too,” he concluded.
Ed stirred and turned over in his bed, just as brilliant lightning briefly illuminated the walls in the small shack. For about
two seconds, John and Elmer could see each other propped up in their beds and Elmer quickly made a scary face with his eyes wide like saucers. John reached out and thumped his brother on the shoulder.
“Oww!” said Elmer, slightly above a whisper.
“If you wake Uncle Ed, he’ll make you sleep outside,” said John. He delighted in the way he imagined his brother’s face looking now. John wished more lightning would flash so he could see his expression. However, the storm must have been too far away because the homestead remained in darkness.
“Well, I’m tired anyway. Goodnight,” said Elmer, barely whispering.
John grinned in the dark. “Good night, Elmer.”
***
John returned to the scene of the murder in his dream. He was too late—again—and Hans Schneider lay dead, his head propped onto his wife Gertrude’s lap. The same red blood began to spread across the man’s clothes and John was terrified. Gertrude began to wail and John squeezed the sides of Skipper to prompt him to race home. As Skipper approached a fallen tree, the horse froze in fear, sending John flying through the air. John landed hard. He woke sweating in his bed and breathing heavily. He closed his eyes and tried to let go of the anxiety from his
dream. John thought of something peaceful as he tried to get back to sleep—a fishing trip he went on with his father. But where was his father?
The great bald eagle sat calmly on the banks of the mighty North Saskatchewan River. It didn’t seem to realize that John was there, observing. Soon it was joined on the left by a buffalo that could walk on two legs who also observed the eagle’s movements with contentment. On the eagle’s right, many spotted horses galloped up to sit beside the eagle, their breath coming in gentle snorts.
The eagle was using its wings to scoop up the sand along the banks of the river and filter it between its feathers. John sensed that it was a hot day in the middle of summer. For as far as he could see, there was only blue sky punctured by groupings of trees to the north. As the eagle closed its eyes, a cool wind seemed to come from nowhere and ruffle its white head feathers.
Then, the eagle reached down and scooped water from the river in its cupped feathered wings. John began to understand the eagle was interacting with three of the four elements— earth, air, water. But where was fire?
Just then the bald eagle arranged large stones in a circle, creating a fire pit. The bird brought out a pointed flint stone and struck down on a small rectangular-shaped piece of steel over
some dry grass that he had placed inside the perimeter of stones, calmly lighting the fire in the traditional Indian way. There it is, thought John as he observed. Fire.
As the eagle sat there for a moment and tended its small fire, some of the flames leapt over the protective circle of rocks to the dry land. The eagle was startled.
It grasped the stray flames with its feathered wings and suddenly turned to John, holding the fire, staring at him in his dream as if all along it had known that John was there. John felt frightened as the eagle held onto the flames with its cupped, feathered wings and began to walk toward him.
“No, get away,” mumbled John, trying to shout. “It’s fire… dangerous. Fire….It’s fire!” he tried to scream at the top of his lungs, but it seemed as if he could hardly speak at all.
Chapter 8
Everything in its Path
“Get up! John! Get up!”
John opened his eyes to see his uncle and brother dressing quickly. They looked terrified, glancing nervously out the tiny shack’s window. The small room was lit by a strange glow from the window, even though it was obviously still the middle of the night. Ed flung open the door and ran outside and as he did so the room was bathed in a warm, orange light. He shouted over his shoulder to Elmer and John as he ran toward the main house.
“You boys come to the house. Let’s go!”
“What’s going on?” asked John, scared and confused as he dressed quickly.
“You’re the one who was shouting ‘fire’ and woke us up!” exclaimed Elmer, stuffing his feet into his shoes. “The whole prairie is on fire, John!”
John stumbled over to the doorway, a fragment of his strange dream about an eagle beginning to come back into his mind. He
then looked outside to see the darkness cut by a wide swath of brilliant orange fire in the distance, gorging on the dry grass that stood in its way. He felt his stomach knot in fear as he realized the sheer size of the great blaze. A grass fire—the thing homesteaders feared most.
John and Elmer raced across the dry ground, imagining their own homestead engulfed in flames. Ed’s shack seemed to be further away and safe for the moment. And yet, it was possible that everything they owned—their home, their barns, their crop of wheat—would be lost under the torrent of fire racing across the land in the distance. As they ran, they watched the fire grow in intensity in the distance, a pulsing roar they could even smell as it gobbled up the countryside.
The thirsty land over the past couple of weeks had created the perfect conditions for the deadly lightening strikes overnight. John imagined that when they had g
one to bed with lightning flashing in the distance, it must have struck a dry tree. The resulting strike would have splintered the tree, creating deadly sparks that would have fallen on the tinder-dry grasslands of the prairies. With nothing but wide open dry grasslands, the fire would have grown like a flash.
As they closed in on the main homestead, John and Elmer saw their father come running out with his shirt half on, almost colliding with Ed, who had been screaming his brother’s name the whole way. The two of them now worked together, shouting to each other about what was best to do. William saw Elmer and John running toward the house. He yelled for them to stay close to the home, just as Mary and Summer quickly made their own exit.
Mary gathered John, Elmer, and Summer together and tersely issued instructions. “Get towels and rags and wet them from the two water barrels. Then line the bottoms of the doorways.”
With anxious faces everyone did as they were told, knowing how precious water was but also understanding the threat.
John knew his father and uncle were about to do the only possible thing that might save them from the fire’s path of destruction. They were going to hitch the horses to a plough and dig deep furrows in the land all around the property. Hopefully, when the fire reached the freshly dug black earth it would have no new dry grass to feast on and simply stop at that exact point where the grasses burned off.
The animals in their paddocks were restless, pacing around and smelling the burning air. William and Ed led Skipper and Blue out of the barn but the horses were afraid of the danger that they sensed. Both of them resisted and began to tug their massive heads backwards.
The Mystery of the Moonlight Murder Page 6
