With all the recent snowfall, the snowbank at the end of the plough zone was almost as high as a pickup truck. The snowmobile sped towards it without slowing. Evan felt the driver’s eyes on him through the helmet’s visor. His square frame marked him as a man. He’s coming right for me, thought Evan.
The engine finally slowed as it approached the dip down to the road. The driver guided the skis down the embankment and hit the gas slightly to catch the track on the icy road. The sled behind fell to the ground with a thud. It was almost as big as the snow machine itself.
The entire rig inched forward. Everything was black — the snowmobile, the sled, the boots, the suit, and the helmet. It stopped a comfortable distance from where Evan stood. Close enough to be a target. He kept his hands in front of him, mindful of the rifle that lay over his shoulder.
The driver slowly raised both hands, as if to indicate he meant no violence or confrontation. The gesture caught Evan off guard, but he nodded and raised his own hands. The driver lowered his hands and killed the engine. It sputtered into silence as the driver stood, putting his hands up once again to ensure he displayed no sudden, threatening movements.
Trees cracked under the weight of snow in the still, crisp air. As he stood up, the stranger’s stature stunned Evan. He was a beast of a man who was invading his people’s space.
“I come in peace.” The man’s voice was a guttural baritone, and the words echoed across the barren landscape. Then he started to laugh, a mild chuckle, that quickly escalated into sharp guffaws.
Evan didn’t know whether to aim his rifle, extend his hand, or laugh with him. The man was well over a head taller than he was. The heavy snowmobiling jacket accentuated his bulk. He didn’t look armed, but Evan was certain he had guns. He decided he better say something.
“As the old saying goes,” Evan began sternly, “come in peace or leave in pieces.”
The man stopped laughing and stood silent. Then he erupted in boisterous laughter. “That’s a classic, brother!” he shouted as he leaned over, grabbing at his gut. But it sounded insincere and did nothing to ease Evan’s anxiety.
“Who are you?” Evan asked.
The large figure caught his breath and stood upright again. “The name’s Scott. Justin Scott.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, I was in the neighbourhood, so I just figured I’d stop by.” The helmet muffled his voice, and Evan couldn’t get a read on him without seeing his face. “Oh, how rude of me!” Scott added. He unclipped the strap on his chin and lifted his helmet off his head, revealing a wide, bald dome. His eyes squinted in the bright daylight, but everything else about his facial features was large. His bulbous nose complemented his wide mouth, contained by a square jaw. The wide, unzipped collar of his thick jacket and the black turtleneck sweater he wore underneath obscured his neck, but it looked as wide as his massive head. He made no motion to approach Evan.
“What are you doing here?” Evan repeated.
“Well, friend,” Scott continued. “As you may well know, the proverbial shit has hit the fan. I’m just looking for a nice, friendly place to lay my head for a little while.”
“Why here?”
“Far away from so-called civilization seems like the best place to be right now.”
“How did you find us?”
“Easy. I just followed the other sled tracks.”
The hair rose at the back of Evan’s neck. Goddamn it, he thought. He followed Kevin and Nick.
Evan heard one of the trucks approaching behind him. Finally. It was Isaiah in his big red diesel pickup. Isaiah took in the standoff and the rifle as he pulled his truck next to Evan’s. He jumped out, leaving his truck running, and stepped to Evan’s side.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
The sun glanced off Scott’s bald head. “We’re getting acquainted.”
“Who are you?”
“My apologies. The name’s Justin Scott.”
Isaiah turned to Evan, who was monitoring the visitor. Wary of Scott’s every move, Evan didn’t even acknowledge Isaiah.
“What do you want?” Isaiah prodded.
“Well, as I was just explaining to your friend here — sorry, I didn’t catch your name?” Scott said to Evan, stepping off the snowmobile.
“It’s Evan.”
Scott looked to Isaiah. “And what’s your name?”
There was an awkward silence. Evan’s heart pounded in his eardrums. He didn’t want the situation to escalate. He shot Isaiah a glance to prompt him to respond to the stranger.
“Isaiah,” he finally replied.
“Evan and Isaiah,” Scott repeated, taking a few long strides towards them. “Nice to meet you.” He walked closer and took his thick gloves off, extending his bare, calloused white hand in greeting.
He turned to Evan first, who reluctantly obliged. His rough, meaty palm dwarfed Evan’s. The handshake was half goodwill, half intimidation. Scott let go and shook Isaiah’s hand the same way. Evan noticed that the top of Isaiah’s head came up only to Scott’s hard blue eyes, and Isaiah was a tall man.
“Where were we? Oh, yes, that’s right. I was just explaining why I’m here. Well, my Ojibwe friends, I’m here for the same reason everyone else is: to breathe the fresh northern air. I also want to taste the finest moose meat — I hear they’re bountiful up here. And I hear the hospitality of the Ojibwe is unrivalled.”
Isaiah narrowed his eyes. “Are you fucking with us?”
“Now, son, no need for vulgarities. I told Evan, I come in peace.”
“I’m not your son.”
“Izzy, just chill out,” Evan scolded him.
Scott’s smile faded. He cracked his jaw, shifting it from side to side. “I have a good feeling that you boys know what’s happening. I don’t think you woulda grabbed your rifle, Evan, if you weren’t on edge,” he said. He shifted his focus to Isaiah. “Now Isaiah — may I call you Izzy?”
“No.”
“Isaiah, I was just starting to tell Evan about how I followed two weaving sled tracks out of the city and up here.”
“Fuck,” Isaiah muttered under his breath.
“I’m sure whoever made those tracks told you about the situation. Quite honestly, it’s bad. Down south is the last place you want to be right now.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
“I’m a man of the land, fellas. Right now, I’m getting the lay of it.”
“Cut the bullshit, man,” Evan commanded.
“I apologize, Evan. The trail has taken a bit of a toll. I’ve had a lot on my mind, and a lot of time to think about it.” The frigid air didn’t seem to bother his bare head. “What’s the situation here?”
“I don’t think you’ve earned the right to ask questions here yet,” Evan replied.
“Well, I’ll tell you my side of things, then,” said Scott. “Ten days ago, we lost everything at once, power, satellite, comms. It went to shit pretty quick. What do people here know?”
“Everything is out here too,” Evan said grudgingly. “We don’t know much. We know about Gibson because two of our boys came back yesterday. The boys you followed.”
“I hate to break it to you, boys,” Scott said, “things are gonna get worse. How much food is here?”
“Enough. We’re a community of hunters.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he was exaggerating.
“Good. I’m a bit of an outdoorsman myself. I think I’ll fit in well here.”
Scott’s smile did nothing to reassure Evan. He was on the run, that was clear. He needed a place to hide. What else does he know? wondered Evan. Why does he want to be here? He studied the rig behind him and noticed large hard cases tied down to the steel sled. “What’s in the back there?”
Scott turned to glance at his ride. “Oh, just winter supplies,” he
said. “Everything I need for winter survival. I’ve been prepared for this for a long time.”
“Yeah, looks like it.” Evan glanced over the cases another time, imagining what was inside. He assumed a small arsenal.
“So you’re planning on staying a while, I guess, eh?” said Isaiah.
“If I’m welcome, and for however long you’ll have me.”
“That’s not up to us. We’re gonna have to talk to chief and council.”
“May I meet them?”
“It’ll take some time. We’re waiting for someone else to meet us here. We’ll send him to get someone when he gets here.”
“Fair enough.”
White strangers weren’t a rarity — non-Anishinaabeg came regularly. Some were government officials, others had business interests, and there were usually a few church and health people on assignment to the rez. White labourers also came up to fill employment gaps the community itself couldn’t meet. A few stayed for good, after finding love and starting families. But their community was remote. No one just “stopped in.”
Evan pulled his pack of smokes out of his pocket and tipped it in Scott’s direction, raising his eyebrows. Scott shook his head slightly. Isaiah paced until the last plough rolled down the road to lift the uncomfortable standoff. Isaiah waved Tyler in.
Tyler pulled the large black truck up to Evan and Isaiah. He opened his window and mouthed “what the fuck?” as Isaiah stepped up to his truck.
“He says his name’s Justin Scott,” Isaiah whispered over the rumble of the diesel engine. “He just showed up on that snowmobile. It sounds like he’s from the city. He followed Kevin’s and Nick’s tracks up here.”
“What does he want?”
“He wants to stay here. He hasn’t really said much yet. He’s really weird. I don’t trust him.”
“Well, what are we gonna do?”
“Go get Terry and whoever else you can find. Walter. Get Walter too. They’re gonna have to decide. I don’t think we got any choice, though. He seems dead-set on staying here.”
“Goddamn it. People are gonna shit themselves if they see him.”
“Yeah, I know. So go get council as soon as you can and bring them back.”
“Alright, I’ll be right back. Take these first.” Tyler handed Isaiah another stack of paper before he put the plough into reverse to drive back up the road.
“He didn’t want to join the party?” asked Scott.
“He’s going to get the chief and some councillors.”
“Well, I hope they get here soon. We’re not much use to anyone just standing out here in the cold. I’m sure you boys still have a job to do.”
Without answering, Isaiah split the stack of flyers Tyler had given him and handed Evan half. He looked down at the paper.
COMMUNITY MEETING
TOMORROW AT NOON IN THE GYM
UPDATE ON POWER OUTAGE
PLEASE CARPOOL IF POSSIBLE
LUNCH WILL BE PROVIDED
REMEMBER TO TURN OFF ALL LIGHTS WHEN LEAVING HOME
MIIGWECH,
CHIEF AND COUNCIL
“What’s that you got there, boys?” Scott asked.
“Nothing, just an update we gotta deliver,” replied Isaiah.
“What are you telling them?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
They stood in awkward silence, awaiting the return of Tyler’s pickup. Evan kept his eyes fixed on Scott, but grew increasingly uncomfortable as the seconds dragged on. Isaiah nervously shuffled his feet and darted his gaze from his friend, to the stranger, to the ground, and back again. Scott eased his stare between them with a smirk on his face. When the truck arrived, Terry and Walter were squeezed into the cab with Tyler. He stopped in the middle of the road, and the two older men got out while Tyler remained behind the steering wheel with the engine running.
Terry looked at his two young staffers, trying to find clues in their expressions. Then he turned to the strange man before them. Walter walked calmly behind him. “So what do we have here?” Terry asked.
Scott turned his attention to Terry and Walter as they approached. He took a few easy steps in their direction, hand outstretched.
“Good afternoon, my name is Justin Scott, and I’m from Gibson.” He directed his greeting at Terry first, as if sensing he was the more important of the two. The arrogance that had been in his voice when he’d been talking to Isaiah and Evan gave way to respect, though Evan questioned its sincerity.
“I’m Terry Meegis, and I’m the chief here.” Terry shook Scott’s hand and waved in Walter’s direction. “This is Walter Meegis. He’s one of our councillors.”
“It’s an honour to meet you, Chief, and Councillor Meegis,” Scott replied as he shook Walter’s hand. Scott put his hands on his hips, while Walter put his own in the pockets of his jacket.
“So what can we do for you, Mr. Scott?” asked Terry.
“Well, sir, I humbly come before you asking for refuge in your community. I’m sure you’re aware of the situation in the city. It’s getting worse, and I feared for my safety. So I escaped in the darkness early this morning.”
Evan watched Walter eye the large man. He guessed Walter was coming to the same conclusion he did after scrutinizing Scott’s figure — that he was somewhere in his late thirties or early forties. Clearly able-bodied.
“I followed two lines of snowmobile tracks to the power lines, which led me all the way here. I understand two of your young ones made their way back here, escaping the city like I did. I didn’t know where the trail would lead me. But here I am. And now, I’m begging you to allow me to stay here for the time being. I saw some pretty horrific things in the last few days.”
His voice cracked and he looked down at the hard-packed icy snow at his feet. The sudden vulnerability shocked Evan. He didn’t seem like the same cocky person who had prodded them moments earlier. Evan wasn’t sure what to make of this about-face, but it didn’t make him trust Scott any more. He didn’t believe everything about this stranger’s story, either.
“I’m sorry to hear of your hardships,” Terry responded. “We’re just starting to understand what’s going on here. It sounds pretty messed up. But why should we take you in?”
Scott stood straighter. “Well, Chief Meegis, I’m a hunter, much like you are, I assume. I can help provide for your community. I’m a survivalist. I know how to live on this land without the comforts and luxuries people in the South have become too dependent on. I know all about emergency management. I can help your people adapt to this situation.”
“Why should we trust you?” Terry asked.
“Because what you see is what you get,” he said. “I come to you with only the intention of survival and the hope of being part of a community. We’re only going to get through this with each other.”
“What’s in the boxes?”
“Supplies. Hunting gear. Food. Clothes. A tent. The essentials.”
“How do we know you’re alone, like you say?”
“You just have to believe me.”
“How can we be sure no one followed you?”
Scott shrugged. “I guess you can’t. But as your boys probably told you, no one down there was ready for this. They’re lucky they made it out.”
Terry pursed his lips. “Well, as I’m sure you can appreciate, Mr. Scott, we’re gonna have to discuss this. Please excuse us.” He turned his back on Scott and motioned for the others to follow him behind the biggest plough. “Take your time,” Scott said, flashing a toothy smile as they disappeared. Tyler remained in the truck, watching the newcomer.
They huddled behind the plough. Terry scratched his beard, and Walter tugged again at his ponytail.
“So what are we gonna do with him?” Walter asked.
“We can’t just send him back,” answered Terry.
Walt
er gritted his teeth. “The fuck we can’t!”
“What’s gonna happen to him if he goes back down there? Or if he has to find somewhere else to go?”
“Who the fuck cares! I don’t trust him.”
Evan piped up. “I don’t trust him either, Terry.” It was unusual for him to speak out, especially in a circle with his elders.
Terry sighed. “We may be able to use him, though,” he protested. “He could pull more weight than a lot of the deadbeats in this goddamn rez.”
Evan thought of his brother Cam and his friends who passed their days playing video games and smoking dope. Evan realized he hadn’t visited Cam lately and decided he would go over and check on him later.
“We can’t just turn him away,” Terry continued. “It’s not our way. We can’t just send him off to die.”
“Alright, we let him stay,” Walter conceded. “But he has to contribute. He has to hunt. He has to gather wood. Where are we gonna put him, though?”
“We can put him in the health station,” Terry suggested. The community nurses rotated in two weeks at a time and the crisis had hit the week before another one was to come in from Gibson. The health station was empty. This wasn’t the first time the rez had been left without a nurse, and when it happened, the few with first-aid training — like Nicole or Walter — stepped up for basic care.
“There are beds in there,” Terry went on. “There’s a kitchen. That means we’ll have to put the heat on in there, though. But eventually we’ll put him in someone’s house. As soon as he proves he can be a part of this community and that he can be trusted.”
“So what then,” Evan asked. “Do we make him get one moose a week or what?” He was only half-joking.
Walter chuckled. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”
“No, it’s not,” Terry said. “But we’ll worry about that later. For now, let’s just tell him the deal.”
“What about the rest of council? Shouldn’t we talk to them first?” asked Walter.
“I don’t think we have time. People are gonna eventually see us down here with him and they’ll come see what’s going on. We should get him out of the way.”
Moon of the Crusted Snow Page 9
