Moon of the Crusted Snow

by Waubgeshig Rice

“I dunno, maybe your mom can make something of it.” Patricia usually made moccasins and sold them to trading posts and souvenir shops throughout the North. It was good extra money.

  They stood quietly again. That comfortable, easy, important silence between a father and a son fell upon them. Evan pulled out his pack of cigarettes once more, and so did Dan. They took long, soothing drags on their smokes, staring into the hide and occasionally into the forested horizon.

  Without turning, Dan said, “I had a dream last night.” Evan’s head turned slowly in his father’s direction. “It was night. It was cold, kinda like this time of year. But it was the springtime. I dunno how I could tell because it was so dark, but I just knew that it was.

  “I was walking through the bush. I remember I had my shotgun over my shoulder. I had a backpack on too. I dunno why or what was in it.” His sentences came out slowly, with a precise rhythm. Evan dragged on his cigarette again, transfixed by his father’s unusually candid speech.

  “There was this little hill in the distance. I could see it only because it looked like there was something burning on the other side. There was this orange glow. It was pretty weird. It wasn’t anyplace I recognized. Nowhere around here, anyways. So I kept walking towards the hill. The light on the other side got brighter. I knew it was a big fire, the closer I got.”

  Evan couldn’t remember the last time his father had spoken so much at once. He wasn’t known as a storyteller or a talented orator. He never talks about dreams, Evan thought.

  Dan continued, “As I went up that hill, I started to see the flames. They were so high. The fire roared, kinda like the rapids down the river. It was popping and cracking real loud. And then I got to the top.”

  Evan’s face tightened and the hair at the back of his neck stood up.

  “The whole field on the other side of that hill was on fire. I couldn’t see nothing in that field except fire. But it wasn’t spreading. Then I looked around and seen a bunch of you guys standing and looking at it. It was you, Cam, Izzy, some of your buddies, and even Terry. There were a bunch more too, but I couldn’t tell who they were because they were too far away. You were all spread out, just looking at the fire.”

  Evan inhaled deeply. His cigarette had burned down to the filter between his fingers, singeing the orange paper.

  “Everyone was wearing hunting gear and had their guns in their hands. But no one had any orange on, like right now. And when I looked closer at your face, you looked real skinny. Cam too. And the other guys looked weak. It was pretty weird.

  “Then I understood what was going on. We had put the burn on to try to get some moose in. I can’t remember the last time we had to do that around here. But everyone in my dream must have been hungry. No one was saying nothing. I looked over at you —” He paused and turned to look at Evan. “You looked at me. You looked scared. And that’s when I woke up.”

  Dan went silent, and Evan stared at his feet. When he looked back to his father’s face, Dan’s eyes were locked on the bush in the distance.

  “Well, maybe if you didn’t hunt out them moose this year, we wouldn’t have to worry about it,” Evan blurted, with a nervous chuckle. “We got a good haul of them anyways.” He anxiously watched to see if Dan’s hardened, blank face would break. When the corners of his dad’s mouth turned up in a small smile, Evan was relieved.

  “You young buggers are the ones hunting them out!” Dan said, as he playfully punched his son in the shoulder. “Shoulda never taught you how to shoot a gun.”

  They both laughed and turned to go back into the house.

  Four

  Nicole opened her eyes to see daylight punching through the narrow gap in the thick blue curtains. It created a rectangular halo in an otherwise dark and cold bedroom. The frigid air made her nose numb. Suddenly, she was wide awake, well-rested but uneasy.

  She looked over to the alarm clock and noticed that its red glow was gone. Evan was still asleep beside her. She cast aside the covers and stood up, putting on her thick robe over her T-shirt and pyjama pants. It was Friday, and she was certain Maiingan would be late for school. She stepped into her deerskin moccasins by the door. The soft rabbit fur of the lining caressed the tender skin between her toes, putting her momentarily at ease.

  The chill was harsher out in the hallway. She peeked quickly into the kids’ rooms and saw that both were still sleeping, curled in their thick blankets decorated with their favourite cartoon characters. Maybe it’s earlier than I thought. The battery-powered clock on the far wall of the kitchen indicated it was just after 7:30 a.m. Not too late for school, but barely early enough to get everyone up and ready for the day.

  The cold upstairs meant the wood stove in the basement was out. And with the electricity now off too, the baseboard heaters hadn’t kicked in to compensate for the dead fire. Sometimes they would forget to feed the fire before bed, knowing that if it died down, the electric heat would kick in. But power outages happened regularly enough to remind them to stay on top of it.

  “Jesus, it’s freezing in here!” she heard Evan say behind her. He walked out into the bright kitchen, wearing a black tracksuit and thick wool socks.

  “Yeah, power’s out,” Nicole replied.

  “Really?”

  Noticing the surprised uptick in his voice, she tried to reassure both of them. “Yeah, we just forgot to put more wood in the stove,” she said. “Remember when this happened last winter?”

  His shoulders relaxed slightly. “Oh yeah, eh,” he said. “Guess I better go down and start that up again.” He scratched his head. “Hopefully the power comes back on soon, or it’s just gonna be cereal and cold bread for breakfast!”

  Like most of the homes that had been built or brought in pre-fabricated in the last decade, theirs relied heavily on electric appliances. When Evan was a child, his home’s stove and fridge had been fuelled by propane — handy in case the diesel delivery didn’t come through. With a lighter demand and smaller storage tanks, propane didn’t have to be trucked in as regularly.

  But the hydro lines from the massive dam to the east now powered homes here, and there were plans to decommission the band’s diesel generators and sell them. There was still diesel in them for contingencies, but the upcoming winter was to be the last that the band paid for trucks to bring in the fuel.

  The narrow basement windows gave Evan just enough light to start another fire in the big metal box on the far side of the cold, damp room. Upstairs, Nicole roused the children to get their day started. If the power didn’t come back on within the next hour, school would likely be cancelled. She began thinking of activities to keep them occupied if that was the case.

  As she watched the kids saunter into the kitchen, Nicole caught sight of the phone on the wall. Out of curiosity, she picked the handset off its holster and brought it to her ear. The cold plastic chilled her earlobe. She heard nothing. She had a moment of quick panic but stifled it to focus on feeding the children.

  They were sitting at the table, eating peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwiches when Evan came back upstairs twenty minutes later. The air inside slowly warmed and the now-familiar silence made for a quiet, comfortable space in the home. Nicole decided to wait until after breakfast to tell Evan about the dead phone.

  There was a knock at the front door, and when Evan stood up from the table to look, he could see Nicole’s older cousin Tammy standing on the porch. She smiled and waved, then opened the door and walked in. She was wearing a heavy burgundy coat that made crinkling sounds as she closed the door behind her. “Aaniin!” she called out. Her black hair was tied back in a tight bun that seemed to pull her smile even wider.

  “Aaniin!” Evan replied. “Aaniish na? What’s up?”

  “Oh, just making the rounds,” she said. Her voice was always louder than anyone else in Nicole’s family. It came in handy as the school’s receptionist. “I see the power’s out over
here too?”

  “Yeah, musta gone out in the night sometime. We slept in.”

  “I think everyone did.”

  “We let the furnace go out too. I just got it back going. I guess we’re getting too used to hydro.”

  “I was gonna say, I’m pretty sure I can still see my breath in here!” She exhaled slowly through her mouth and tugged at the collar of her jacket. “Anyway, I came by to let youse know that there’s no school today. Phones and internet aren’t working, and we were too lazy to get the good old-fashioned smoke signals going today!” She followed that with big laughter.

  Evan shot a puzzled glance at Nicole, who was still in the kitchen. “Landlines aren’t working either?” She grimaced and shook her head. He looked to the floor and pushed that worry out of his mind before turning his attention back to Tammy.

  “If you’re the moccasin telegraph, where’s your moccasins then?” Evan looked down at the high brown leather boots she’d bought at a mall on a trip down to Gibson. “Musta been a handsome moose you shot!” He laughed and Tammy scoffed.

  “Anyways,” she said, “hopefully we’ll get the power back on this weekend and have school on Monday. I’ll let ya know.”

  Evan nodded. “It’s kinda weird to have everything out. When’s the last time we had no satellite, phones, or hydro?”

  “I dunno. Couldn’t have been that long ago. Last year maybe,” said Evan.

  “You sure? I don’t remember.”

  “If not last year, then definitely the year before. Remember how nothing really worked all the time when they first put up that tower and started bringing in those lines?”

  “Yeah, I guess so, eh.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Geez, back in our day we never had none of this shit!” Tammy was fifteen years older than Evan and Nicole. “You guys should count your lucky stars.”

  It was true. He had spent most of his life without cell service and satellite TV, and his parents had grown up without power at all.

  “You’re right,” he muttered. “Thanks for coming by and letting us know.”

  Nicole walked over to the door with Nangohns trailing behind and Tammy’s face lit up as the little girl ran into her arms. “Oh good morning, my little star!” She bounced the smiling girl in her arms. “Well, guess I should get going. Youse wanna come over for some poker tomorrow night? We’ll be around. Hopefully the lights will be back on!”

  “Okay, cool, miigwech,” said Nicole.

  “Alright then, you know where to find us.” Tammy put Nangohns down and left.

  Evan felt the cold air sneak inside as the door closed. Soon the temperature outside would drop further and the first big snowfall loomed. It was a good time to split more wood for the furnace.

  Outside, the air was dry and cold. A breeze bit his high, broad cheeks. The clear sky seemed unthreatening but there would be a storm soon. There always was. That’s when his job would really get busy, clearing snow from roads and driveways with the band’s snowploughs. Evan’s job responsibilities changed season to season. Springtime usually meant he was out on the roads, patching holes and laying gravel on asphalt that had washed away in the runoff. In the summer, he monitored the water quality at the treatment plant. By fall, he made home visits to make sure pipes, cisterns, and septic tanks were ready for winter. And when the snow fell, he was one of the ploughmen.

  In the backyard stood five firm walls of wood piled neatly into ten cords waiting to be split. Gathering wood was a year-round process on the rez. People went into the bush to cut down spruce, oak, and maple to bring home for their own use or to sell. The band employed its own crew to provide wood for the elderly and others who needed help, and Evan brought any leftover wood home whenever he could.

  He worked a few logs free from the top of the nearest stack and shoved them to the ground. He tipped the closest one upright and brought the axe up to his waist to begin his swing, his left hand closest to the butt of the handle and his right by the blade. He raised it high over his head and brought his hands together as he dropped the axe down, splitting the log with a loud crack that echoed into the field behind his home.

  “Whoa, good swing, pipes!” Evan recognized his younger brother’s voice behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see a wide grin baring stained yellow teeth. Cam’s ball cap was pulled tightly over his forehead, concealing his eyes and causing his thick, greasy black hair to protrude in all directions.

  “Oh, good, just in time to help!” Evan replied.

  “Yeah, maybe if you give me a smoke,” said Cam.

  “We’ll see. So what are you up to?”

  “Nothin’, man. Fuckin’ bored. Can’t do nothin’ without no power.”

  Cam didn’t have a job. He worked occasionally when the trees had to be cleared for the power lines or when a road crew was needed, but otherwise he spent his time playing video games at the apartment he shared with his girlfriend, Sydney, and their son, Jordan. They lived in the cluster of duplex buildings originally built for hydro workers, but after the men from the South left, the housing was made available to band members. It was temporary housing for the southerners but, like so much on the rez, it stayed up and got used.

  “Good. About time you got up off your ass,” Evan poked.

  “Fuck off. When’s the power supposed to come back on?” he asked.

  “No idea. We froze our asses off last night because I let the furnace go out. That’s why I’m chopping more wood now, just in case.”

  “Yeah, it was pretty chilly in our place too. Good thing Izzy and those guys came around early this morning to start ours.”

  “Do you guys have enough wood to keep it going?” Evan asked.

  “Yeah, I think so. They left some more for us.”

  “You should know how to start that yourself anyways.”

  “Meh, whatever.”

  Only two years separated the brothers, but somehow Evan had landed on his feet in adulthood while Cam hadn’t yet. When Evan had been out on the land learning real survival skills with his father and uncles as a teenager, Cam had chosen to stay behind, learning simulated ones in video games.

  “Well, be a good uncle for your niece and nephew anyway, and go grab that axe by that pile.”

  Cam grumblingly obliged and the two split logs as the sun moved across the sky. Somewhere out on the road, a pack of dogs yelped and barked at something in the bush. They knew the storm was coming soon too.

  Five

  Three hard knocks woke Nicole and Evan. She groaned, and he turned over as three more thuds vibrated through the house. “What the hell is that?” she mumbled.

  Evan groaned. “I’ll go check.”

  He got out of bed in his T-shirt and boxer shorts in the grey predawn light.

  At the door, he recognized the familiar silhouette of Isaiah, who smiled mischievously at Evan’s sleep-rumpled state and walked in.

  “I woulda said whatever happened to calling,” Evan grumbled, “but I remembered the phones are out.”

  “Yeah, all moccasin telegraph all the time these days,” Isaiah replied. Evan was already tired of this joke. Izzy fell into the armchair beside the door without taking off his heavy red parka, grey toque, or boots.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Terry wants everyone in public works over at the band office right away. He pounded at my door just about fifteen minutes ago. My job was to round you up.”

  “It’s Saturday, damn it!”

  “Yeah, well, he says it’s an emergency. He’s talking about firing up the generator. No one knows what’s going on with the hydro.”

  The chief calling an emergency meeting on a Saturday morning was serious. Evan snapped awake. “Alright, lemme go get dressed,” he said. “What’s it like outside?”

  “Gettin’ colder.”

  “Shit.”

  Evan quic
kly returned to the bedroom, where Nicole lay awake in the warm, uneasy darkness. “What’s Izzy want?”

  “Gotta go to work,” he replied, as he picked up the jeans from the floor and pulled them on.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Not totally sure, but Izzy says Terry wants everyone in public works over at the shop. Guess he wants to turn the generator on.”

  “That’s good. The food in the fridge might start to go bad without the power.”

  “Yeah, and it’d be good to put the kids in front of a movie for a break,” he said with a laugh.

  He leaned in to kiss his partner and walked back to the front door, where his outside clothes hung on the hook.

  Once he was dressed, Evan and Isaiah stepped outside into the cold. A faint pink glow in the east hinted at the sunrise. I guess it’s not that early, Evan thought.

  They climbed into Isaiah’s idling truck, and Evan appreciated the warmth of the cab. Isaiah turned up the country music on his truck’s stereo and backed out onto the road.

  “First you wake me up to work on a Saturday, then you make me listen to this shit?” Evan said.

  “Shut the hell up,” his friend shot back. “This music is about real pain and struggle. It’s our people’s music.”

  Evan rolled his eyes and looked out the window, willing to let the music be a distraction from his worries. He loved his friend like a brother. They’d been through almost everything together — hunts, hardships, and heartaches — but he couldn’t stand Isaiah’s taste in music.

  Each house the truck passed was dark. There wouldn’t be much activity in these homes this early on a Saturday anyway, but every unlit window was hard to ignore.

  As the late fall sun began to peek over the horizon, its low angle cast tiny shadows behind the bigger chunks of gravel spread across the route. The shallow streams in the deep ditches on either side were frozen solid.

  The truck rolled through the village to the outskirts on the other side of town. Black spruce trees closed in around them as they approached the generating station by the shop. The reverberating echo of a slide guitar faded slowly as Isaiah lined his truck up with the six other pickup trucks in front of the high brick building. He smiled as he parked, no doubt amused that he had made Evan endure another country song.