“I do, Frost. If it’s okay with you. What is a citizen?”
They walked on. Frost said “A citizen, Granville, is a person who helps out.”
Granville mulled this over. He said “You mean, like I did?”
“I mean, like you do.”
Granville stood up a little straighter. He raised his chin. His narrowed eyes expressed a sense of purpose.
Frost said “Not like before.”
Granville hunched, as if the bag had suddenly grown heavier. He stared morosely down at the concrete of the roadway and was careful not to glance toward Frost. After a while he mumbled without looking up “No, that’s true too" and then “You can say that again.”
Frost said “Do you still get the urge?”
Invited to converse further with Frost, Granville brightened. “Urge? What’s that?”
“Do you ever want skag?”
“Oh no, Frost. I’m done with skag. I’m a citizen now.” He nodded earnestly, then smiled. He retained several teeth, well rotted.
“I don’t believe you. I think you have a struggle every day.”
“What’s a struggle?”
“A fight. You have to fight the urge.”
“No, well, that’s true too. You can say that again. I mean...”
They walked without talking for a while. It was getting dark quickly, but as they proceeded farther up the bridge the fog was thinning. Frost said “What kind of a man is Langley?”
Granville tensed. For a few seconds he peered back into the mist. His hand tightened on the neck of the bag. He shrugged. He walked on with a creased brow. He shrugged again.
Frost said “I know he’s a bad man. You don’t have to tell me that.”
Granville said “You can say that again. Take it from me.” He shook his head once for emphasis.
“But what kind of things did he like to do? What made him happy?”
“I never seen him happy, Frost.” But he seemed worried by his own answer. “I mean...”
“What did he like to do?”
Granville thought for a while. “He liked to watch us pickin’ the pods.”
“What else?”
“He liked to hire soldiers to work for him.”
“What else?”
“He liked to get stuff.”
“What kind of stuff.”
“Nice clothes. From before. From the good times. Shirts. Shoes.”
“Anything else?”
“Stuff for his house. Stuff that nobody else has.”
“Like what?”
“Like things from before. From the good times. I don’t know what the names of them are. Food in cans too. Hooch in glass bottles. Wait, I did see him happy a few times.”
“When was that" asked Frost.
“When one of us couldn’t work no more. Whenever one of us laid down in the poppies and couldn’t get up. Then I seen him up by his house, smilin’, sort of.”
“Why would he smile if one of you couldn’t work? I thought he needed you to work to get more skag.”
“Well that’s true too. You can say that again. But what I think, Frost, I think he was happy because he could haul one of us, whoever it was that laid down - he could get that big Freeway and haul the one of us that laid down over into the bush.” Granville’s burst of conversation stopped abruptly.
Frost said “And what happened in the bush?”
Granville blinked anxiously at his feet or at the concrete. He said “Frost, can I... I mean... Can I ask you a question?”
“Yes.”
“Do I have to talk about Langley?”
Frost said “What about Steveston – Stevie? How long has he been at Langley’s place?”
“He was there when I come.”
“When was that? When did you come?”
Granville shrugged, shook his head, shrugged again “Maybe two winters.”
“Is he addicted.”
Granville turned his face to Frost, puzzled. “What does that mean, Frost? I heard that word before.”
Frost sighed. “Never mind, Granville.” It was a clear twilight. A few stars were visible. The fog now lay below in a thick quilt on the length of the river. The guards had a small peat fire in the middle of the roadway. “One more thing.”
“No problem, Frost.”
“What if Langley attacks? What do you think we should do?”
Granville shivered briefly, convulsively. Pieces of rabbit rustled against the inside of the bag. It was as if someone had taken him by the shoulders and shaken him violently for one second.
Frost said “Jesus!”
Granville looked at Frost sternly. His voice was assertive. “Run, Frost” he said. “Just run.”
There must have been a hole in the bottom of the bag. Frost saw that every few steps a drop of blood dripped onto the calf of Granville’s right leg. Frost said “I don’t run.”
Granville shrugged, shook his head once emphatically. “No, that’s right too. I didn’t mean...”
Up ahead the dogs started barking insanely.
Frost said “I wonder if they can smell the blood.”
“You can say that again.”
29
Robson said “Tomorrow the windows will come alive. Even if it’s cloudy. Even if it rains.”
Noor said “I didn’t come to see your coloured windows.”
101 said “She come to see your big bright eyes" and giggled in a choking sort of way, kng kng kng, until Powell, who was also giggling, slapped him on the arm.
It was night, and only occasionally did a panel of one of the tall stained glass windows catch a beam from the fire or the candle flame.
Noor said “Maybe I come to see your big bright eyes, 101" and 101 went silent and stared at his knees while Powell, who was laughing with everyone else, gave 101 a solid punch on the shoulder. Without looking up, 101 struck out and knocked Powell’s ceramic mug of blackberry wine from his hand. The cup smashed on the concrete floor.
Robson said evenly “You owe one cup, Powell.”
“Me!” Powell was stunned. Ice and Spring laughed louder, and 101 joined them eagerly, going ha ha and poking Powell in the arm.
They were sitting near the altar end of a church, in a semicircle of wheeled office chairs. As the revelers gesticulated the chairs swiveled and rolled back and forth. Emptied bowls sat on the floor, around a wax candle as tall and thick as an artillery shell, and a plastic bottle that said Coca Cola, similar in size, a third full of dark wine. The chairs faced a red metal fireplace with a corroded conical top that caught the smoke and funneled it into a stovepipe. It produced little perceptible heat. There was a small pile of split cordwood. Beyond the firelight heaps of various heights as well as undefined shapes were barely visible in the gloom.
Noor said “This is nice, this wine. We should make some instead of potato hooch.”
Ice said “Hooch has got more alcohol.”
101 said “Let’s get at the hooch that Noor brung. I ain’t had hooch in a coon’s age.”
Powell said “Coon’s age? What the hell is that?”
101 said “You’re showin’ your ignorance in front of our guest. You cup buster.”
The two men sat there swiveling their chairs, smirking at each other in a challenging way as their voices echoed in the darkness of the high empty hall.
Robson said “We got all night.”
They were quiet for a while, watching the candle burn. Then Noor said “So, what’s new with the Church Gang?”
Powell said “We got a visit from a farmer girl.”
101 said “She come in search of big bright eyes" and he and Powell giggled again.
Powell said “She brung one sandal. So’s she’ll get invited back to bring the other one.”
The two women, Ice and Spring, and the other man, Hollyburn, joined voices in telling the two jokers to shut up. Spring said to Noor “Don’t pay no attention to them two. They weren’t brung up good.”
None of them except Noor wore homemade. They
all, even Spring and Ice, wore pleated dress pants and work shirts. Powell had an olive green sleeveless padded jacket. 101 had a blue plaid cap with fuzzy flaps hiding his ears. Hollyburn had a camel hair overcoat. Robson had an ornate waistcoat whose embroidery caught flickers from the fire. The two women each wore several beaded necklaces over their shirts. They all had shoes abraded down to pale rough leather.
Noor said “I see you’ve all come by leather shoes since I was here last. So there’s no need for sandals.”
Robson said “No, but I could’ve traded them.”
“Can you trade one?”
“There’s a barefoot one-legged woman who’s got a thing made of ropes and wheels, for liftin’.”
Hollyburn said “That there is a broken tickle.”
His contribution was greeted by a roar of laughter that echoed thunderously in the church. As it died down Hollyburn rose from his office chair like a member of parliament and said “It is, god damn it. It’s a broken tickle.”
Ice jumped up and proclaimed “I’ll show you a broken tickle.” Both she and Hollyburn were tall and ungainly. She chased him into the darkness, with Hollyburn going “No, no, no, no!” and trying to fend her off. There was a crash of some object falling, and then Hollyburn going “No, no, please, stop, stop" and laughing helplessly and almost silently.
Robson muttered “That would be our espresso maker that just got knocked over.” He shouted “Hey, you two!”
Hollyburn and Ice shuffled back into the circle of light, with Hollyburn brushing dust from his overcoat and then using a sleeve to wipe a tear from his cheek.
Noor said “What’s an espresso maker?”
Robson said “You don’t know what an espresso maker is? Girl, you been on that farm too long. An espresso maker is in fact a beautiful shiny thing that has the words espresso maker on it. I’m pretty sure that’s what it says. And now these drunk ticklers have probably busted it.”
Noor shook her head. “A beautiful shiny thing. Could it be that those coloured windows are affectin’ your brain?”
Spring said “His brain went beautiful and shiny a long time ago, and just as useless as his espresso maker.”
101 rose from his chair and stood there teetering for a few seconds, with Powell and Spring, who were seated on either side, reaching up to catch him if he fell. 101 found his balance, bent for the bottle, and stepped sideways around the semicircle, holding the bottle with both hands, filling cups, attending first to Noor’s. This pretty well finished off the wine.
Noor said “It’s called a block and tackle. We’ve got one. We use it to hang up cows when we gut them.”
Robson waved a finger and said “Now, you see – if you’d a brung the block and tackle instead of the sandal, we could’ve skipped the barefoot, one-legged woman.”
“True, but then she’d have to continue goin’ around with one cold foot.”
Robson sat next to Noor with elbows on knees. He looked at her and said quietly “I would never trade a gift that you give me.” He sat up, leaned, kissed Noor lightly on the lips. He took her hand and resumed looking into the fire. “You asked what the Church Gang has been up to? Scavengin’, tradin’, tryin’ to stay out of the rain. Hollyburn had the brilliant idea to climb the stairs right to the top floor of some tower.”
Hollyburn said “Down near the water. Them stairs was dark. I mean black dark. But my mind was made up. I was goin’ to the top.”
Robson said “In a room at the top he found a skeleton wearin’ that coat.”
Hollyburn said “Perfect fit. Don’t stink at all. Finished stinkin’ forty years ago”
“So after that we all started climbin’ stairs in the dark.”
Noor said “These clothes you’re wearin’ are from skeletons?”
“No, just Hollyburn’s coat. The rest are from closets.”
“Should I believe you?” When Robson did not answer she said “No squatters in those towers?”
“Just on the bottom floors. Only the Church Gang is crazy enough to climb twenty floors in black darkness. Ice found six glass bottles full of brown hooch. It’s called whisky. We should’ve saved some for you. I will if we get any more. Powell, show what you found. Powell’s a scavengin’ fool.”
Powell went behind the fireplace and came back with a rifle. He said “It’s called a 22. I know ’cause my daddy had one. But he didn’t have no bullets.” He showed a small cardboard box that he held in one hand. “We got bullets.”
Spring said “He kilt a rat with it. Scared the shit out of me.”
Powell took a bullet out of the box to show Noor. “See, when you pull the trigger – that’s this here thing – this part of the bullet goes flyin’.”
Noor said “Is that what you use it for, to kill rats?”
Robson said “We don’t use it. See, we don’t know if we’ll ever get any more bullets. We clean it. We keep it ready.”
“In case” said Noor.”
Robson nodded “In case”
She said “You know Langley took Wing’s farm?”
Robson nodded again.
“Now he’s lookin’ at Fundy’s. And maybe ours.”
“Take the 22 when you go. Kill that son of a bitch. Take Powell with you.”
Powell said “I’ll be happy to do it for you.”
Noor said “No, I’m sure Langley knows all about your church full of treasures and is just waitin’ for his chance to help himself.”
They chuckled, but Robson said “I got to say you’re right. Now, what did 101 do recently that’s worth mentionin’? Well, 101 pried open the back of a car and found....”
From a pocket of his sleeveless jacket 101 extracted a compact pair of binoculars. He said “It’s for lookin’ at things far away. It makes them look close.”
Noor took and examined the binoculars. She said “Lenses. Like Grampa’s glasses.” She looked through the tubes, toward Spring’s face. She saw only full lips surmounted by a fringe of very fine pale down, random hairs of which caught blinks of light from the fire. The lips bent into a smile.
Hollyburn said “It’s called a block-your-door.”
101 cried “Damn, would you stop givin’ names to things you don’t know nothin’ about! It’s no god damn block-your-door!”
“Well, what is it, then?” Hollyburn cried in high-pitched irritability.
They all looked at Noor. She shrugged and shook her head.
Robson said “Take it for Frost. A gift from the Church Gang. He’ll know what it’s called.” Robson glanced at 101, who nodded his permission.
Robson said “As for Spring... Spring don’t care much for stairs.”
Spring said “I stay home and cook. Me and the 22. I’m too fat to climb twenty floors or two floors, in pitch dark or broad daylight. I have the honour of bein’ the only fat person in Town.” Spring slouched habitually but was pretty. She was pale-skinned and had wavy blond hair that hung loose. She wore a contented smile most of the time. “How do I stay fat when we hardly got nothin’ to eat?” She shrugged her thick shoulders. “Looks like Ash is going to be fat too. He’s got the fat magic, like me. We’re just lucky.”
Powell said “Where’d he get to, anyway?”
Spring said “He’s just there behind the fireplace, sleepin’.”
They were quiet for a while. Robson rose and took a piece of cordwood from the pile and laid it on the fading fire. When he sat again he said to Noor “If you had a boat you could come around the point by water. Like the Park Crew. We’re not far from the beach. That’s a dangerous trip you made with your horse.”
Noor said “Sure. Find me a boat in one of your towers, and I’ll sail it around the point.”
“Or you could stay here with us.”
101 and Powell went “Oo" and made smooching noises and giggled.
Ice said “You was just offered the big offer, girl.”
Noor said “I’ve got to take care of my grampa.” They all watched her, waiting. She said “You could
come to the farm.”
Now they watched Robson. He looked down at the floor, shaking his head a little. “I’m a Town boy.”
The reply seemed to sadden everyone except Noor. She smiled and laid a hand on Robson’s forearm and said “Well, maybe you’ll find that boat for me. Maybe I’ll get Daniel Charlie to make one.”
Even seated in the office chairs it was obvious that Robson was much shorter than Noor. He was broad-shouldered and heavily muscled. His skin was cinnamon-coloured like hers. He had hair as curly and wild as her grandfather’s but thick and black and shiny, and he had a dense trimmed beard. He wore a headband made from a silk necktie with stripes of gold and green. He leaned forward, hands clasped, elbows on knees, looking into the fire. The piece of wood caught, and the small flames reflected in his black eyes, which were large and round and liquid. He said “It’s good what you’re doin’ with your grampa. Your grampa’s got the idea that things could be better. He’s a good man. He’s the best kind of man. The rest of us are just goin’ from day to day.”
“Collectin’ and tradin’” said Powell.
Since Tomorrow Page 19
