“Yeah, sorry, Otter. We tried. It would have been cool if you had been able to go see the Wail on your first visit to the city.” Samuel lightly punched Otter on the shoulder.
“Otter!” Chickadee was annoyed. “I’m sorry too, but we got off track. We trusted Brett. We lost our money, and all for those stupid tickets.”
“Chickadee…!” Otter reached out to her, his voice sad, but she pulled away.
“Well, you guys better figure something out because I ain’t lying to Auntie.” Chickadee quickly climbed off the fold-out.
Her cousins called her back, but Chickadee kept walking. She didn’t look back as she went upstairs to the living room, slumped onto the couch, and snatched up the TV remote. She pressed the on button hard and angrily flipped from channel to channel.
Chapter 20
Connection
The backseat of the black car was big and noisy. She couldn’t see over the front seat. Treetops and telephone lines were all she could see out the windows. She was afraid. She shouldn’t be here. She didn’t know these people. When the door opened, it wasn’t in front of her home. An immense brick building blocked out the sun. She was given to a woman dressed in black and white. They took her clothes. They cut her hair. Long dark strands on the floor mixed with her tears. How could they do that without asking her mom? Her heart was sore. They scrubbed her then. Hard brushes rasped her skin until it was red. Thankfully, they gave her clothes. They weren’t her clothes, but they were warm after the cold. She was in the darkness. To either side were white-washed beds, each holding a girl who was lonely, scared, and blinking back tears. She wanted her older brother. He would hold her. But he was curled up in a similar bed, in a similar room, on the other side of the school.
Time blurred. In class, she would watch the songbirds sitting on the bushes outside the window. In winter, little feet clasped twigs that bounced and danced in the wind. Black-and-white puffs of life, flittering feathers, seeking morsels in the frigid cold. And then she was one of them, looking back through the glass at a sad little girl, watching a chickadee outside the window. And the cold wind blew, and she held onto the little stick with all her might. But the wind was too strong, and it took her away. She fought and fought against the wind, but it pushed her toward the sunset. The wind took the breath from her lungs. She gasped for air. She tumbled as the landscape rushed below her. The prairies turned to foothills. A road struck straight across the yellows and greens of the treeless, rolling plains. A black spec crawled along that scar. The buffeting gale tossed her toward that dot, until it became a black car. And, suddenly, she was inside. A little girl pushing against the window. The popcorn crackle of the gravel road loud in her ears. They had traveled for so long. Her people were so far away. She could feel the distance in her heart. Could she still be herself without them? She wanted to be held by someone who would hug her back. She was so far away. She knew the black door would open…but what would be on the other side? The big black car crunched to a stop.
ó
Chickadee woke with a start. Her surroundings alarmed her, unfamiliar shapes in the darkness. Where was she? Her heart was beating fast. And then she heard the familiar sound of Atim’s snores in Auntie Sadie’s basement. The dream had been so real, the feelings so raw. Her cheek was wet. Salty tears on the corner of her mouth. She would have to tell her Grandpa. Chickadee plopped back down on her pillow and went back to sleep.
Chapter 21
An Aunties’ Anger
“I can’t believe you lost your money and didn’t tell me!” Auntie Sadie exploded. She was in the kitchen making her lunch before she left for work. Her eyes blazed with fury.
The Muskrats hung their heads. They had stopped eating their cereal and listened dejectedly.
When they had woken that morning, the boys agreed they must tell their aunt what had happened. It was a scary decision, but they all knew they couldn’t lie to one of their Elders for long. Now, she blasted them as they sat at the table. David, Harold, and Nitanis were happy to be witnesses to their mother’s anger and not the object of it. They smiled at their cousins over their bowls of cereal.
“The Crystal Place? Harold, what’s that place like?”
“A palace!” Nitanis squealed, excitedly, before realizing she had misread the room. David snorted.
“It’s just an arcade and pool hall, Mom.” Harold shrugged as he slurped his milk. “Kinda in a sketchy neighborhood, but kids go there to play video games all the time.”
Auntie Sadie turned to Atim. “I trust you to take care of your cousins, and this is what you do?”
Atim stared into his third bowl of Captain Crackles and didn’t look up.
“They wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been for Musky’s little brother. What’s his name?” Harold played the lawyer for his younger cousins. The Muskrats dared not say a word.
“What’s his name?” he prompted Chickadee.
“Brett!” she said, a little too loudly.
“Yeah, Brett. He’s the one who took them there. He scammed them. And when they didn’t get all the cash, him and his buddies jumped Otter and Sam.” Harold twisted his face with derision at the bullies.
“Really?” His mother’s brow furrowed. Harold nodded as he rose from the table and gathered his dirty bowl and spoon. “Really?” Auntie Sadie looked at the Muskrats.
They nodded as one. Nitanis giggled.
“There are always going to be people who will hurt you—who care about themselves more than they care about you!” she scolded. “That’s no excuse for being stupid.”
Auntie Sadie sighed. “When your uncle’s away, I’m here alone. I have to trust you guys to take care of yourselves.”
“I’m sorry, Auntie.” Samuel gave her a slight bow.
“It was my fault. I wanted Otter to go to the Wail concert so badly.” Atim was unable to look his auntie in the eye.
“We all lost our money in the pool hall.” Chickadee had long ago decided to take her punishment for the decision. Otter nodded in agreement with his cousin.
“Well, without your money, there’s no point in taking you to the Exhibition. I don’t have any extra cash.” Auntie Sadie threw up her hands. “I guess that means you got the morning off, Harold.”
Harold looked at his dejected little cousins. They were all studying the floor.
“You know…before I had to take you brats to the Exhibition, I was going to go to the Spence Street Fair. I volunteer for the Indigenous Art and Music Board, and we’re putting on a street fest today.”
“A street fest?” Samuel’s guilty frown faded.
“This city has neighborhood street fests. Well, the better off neighborhoods anyway. The Board, we call it the I-AM Board, helps put on street fests in some of the poorer neighborhoods. We set up a stage, invite Indigenous musicians to come, and we light up a barbeque. We fed over three hundred people hot dogs, chips, and juice at Spence Street last year.”
“I’m not sure they deserve to go to that even.” Auntie Sadie’s face was serious. Like all their aunties, her anger was hot and fearful, but it cooled quickly when she saw real remorse. There was still the matter of punishment though. “In my day, Grandma would tell you to go cut yourself a switch.”
The Muskrats looked at each other, wide-eyed.
“I could make them volunteer at the street fest. Make them work.” Harold offered, a slight smile on his face.
“Well, as long as you actually make them work. I don’t want them just listening to music all day.” Auntie Sadie stood with her hands on her wide hips, her voice held a touch of warning.
“There’s always stuff to do. Especially, if we get there early. We always need help with set up.”
Auntie Sadie thought a bit. “I took a bit of the morning off to take these boneheads to the fair, but then I have to go to work, and these kids have day care. I suppose I can drop you
all off on my way to the hospital.”
The Muskrats nodded enthusiastically.
Chapter 22
Lolly Pops
“Thanks for volunteering. Around here, we go by the philosophy; if you want something to happen, you got to make it happen!”
The chair of the I-AM Board lifted a heavy bag of charcoal out of the back of a truck and brought it over to the barbeque. Alan was a well-muscled, good-looking Anishinaabe man with glasses and a wide smile. He dropped the bag and then clapped his hands to get the dust off. He indicated the park with a wave. “There’s plenty of stuff to do, if you see someone working, ask them if they need help and then get to it.”
“Can I help you with these bags?” Atim flexed his muscles. After getting a nod, he ran back to the truck and rolled a big bag onto his shoulder.
Harold laughed and spoke to Chickadee. “That’s Alan. Isn’t he gorgeous? He’s a good organizer too.”
“Everyone here is a volunteer?” Samuel shielded his eyes with one hand as he looked around. Harold nodded.
They were in the clearing of a well-treed park. The barbeque and the food tent were set up along the east edge. A stage was being unfolded at the south end of the field. It was built on a medium-sized trailer that could be pulled behind a regular truck. With walls that folded out and down, it easily turned into a platform that could comfortably hold a five-piece band with drums, lights, and speakers.
“He looks like he needs help.” Otter pointed to a young man wrestling with a long, colorful band of plastic in the wind. The banner would not unfurl. It lifted high in the wind and then wrapped itself around the head and body of the volunteer like a red, white, and blue tentacle. The young man struggled to detangle as the end of the banner flapped happily in the breeze.
“Let’s go save that guy from the wind.” Harold chuckled.
Over the next hour, the Muskrats helped set up the area for the crowd. When the first musicians arrived, the boys happily helped them move and arrange equipment. Chickadee kept close to her cousin Harold as he flitted from friend to friend, helping out in his own creative way.
Eventually, the music started, and the people of Spence Street began to show up. It was a poor neighborhood, full of new immigrants from Asia, Africa, Europe, and the north. Elders of all colors, children of all sizes, and adults of all creeds clapped and listened in the summer sunshine. Just before lunch, the barbeque was fired up and people lined up for food. The Muskrats helped the other volunteers make sure that everyone got a juice box, a bag of chips, and a hot dog.
Alan watched over everything to make sure it went off well. By mid-afternoon the charcoal was starting to run out, so he sent Harold and the boys out to get some more. When they returned, Harold and the male Muskrats unloaded the big bags. Job finished, they all went to see Chickadee, who was aproned and working behind a fold-out table beside the barbeque. She was taking wieners from the chef, marrying them with buns, and then planting them on paper plates.
As the boys stood there, Chickadee began to giggle. “You don’t see?” she whispered. The male Muskrats looked around. A band on the stage was playing classic rock. A crowd of about three hundred people sat or stood and listened to the music. Children ran in-and-out of the chatty pockets of slower moving adults. The boys could tell something was funny but didn’t know what it was. The chef handed Chickadee another wiener. She giggled harder.
“What?! What are you laughing about?” Samuel hated not knowing secrets.
The chef handed Chickadee yet another wiener. “Here you go, Chick-a-dee-dee-dee-dee!” He emphasized the syllables and extended her name like a real chickadee in the bush.
The boys finally looked at him. He was dark brown, tall, and thin, with long, black hair on one side of his head and a large shaved patch on the other. His goatee was thin and wispy. He wore a leather vest, jeans, cowboy boots, and an apron that said, “Bar-B-Who?”
Otter’s mouth fell open. “You’re…Lolly Leach!”
“Who?” Atim flicked the hair out of his eyes and squinted at the smiling rocker.
“It’s him…the guitarist from Wovoka’s Wail!” Otter was so intent on Lolly that he let his hot dog roll off his plate.
“It is him.” Samuel’s jaw dropped.
Chickadee laughed.
Lolly grabbed a paper plate and began to fill it with cooked wieners. “You guys heard of my band?”
“These are the cousins I told you about. That skinny one is the guitarist, Otter. He’s the one we wanted to get into your show.” Chickadee acted as though she’d known Lolly for years.
“Of course, we’ve heard of the Wail.” Samuel excitedly squirted ketchup on his dog.
Atim already had a mouthful. “Vish yis doe date. Re-re, uhmeenit.”
Lolly laughed. “Thanks. That means a lot.”
Chickadee took off her apron and held it out to Otter. “Wanna try my job?”
Otter couldn’t tell if he was the most afraid or the most excited he’d ever been in his life. He took the apron, then put buns on plates, and held them out to his idol. He was speechless and had to concentrate on keeping the plate steady.
“The secret to cooking a good hot dog is patience,” Lolly said. The two worked in silence for a while.
“You know, First Nations fans are the best fans.” Lolly nudged Otter on the shoulder.
“Really?” Otter’s nervousness ebbed since he wasn’t asked to speak. He preferred to listen.
“Yeppers. Other fans see me as a thing. I’m like a cool statue or mountain or landscape that they’re taking a picture in front of, you know?”
Otter thought about it, and then nodded. “I guess, yeah.”
“But Indigenous fans always just want to help. They don’t know how they can help. But they want to push me forward, you know?”
Otter nodded and waited for more wieners to be ready.
“That’s why I come to these things. I grew up poor, didn’t have a lot, and wouldn’t even have had that if it hadn’t been for the people who volunteered to make our neighborhood better.” Lolly opened another package of raw dogs and put them on the grill within reach of Otter’s tongs.
“We need more people like that, I guess,” Otter said, thoughtfully.
“Back in the old days, nobody got paid. It was your reputation and your ability to survive that had value when you were with others. If you want something to happen, you got to make it happen. Do what you can, right?” Lolly slapped Otter on the back.
Otter smiled and nodded.
“Doesn’t matter if it’s the city or the rez. Our beliefs work. We prepared our youth to go into the world. We have to do that again, but with the knowledge of city Elders. You got a vacuum cleaner, you automatically know you might need to get it fixed one day, right? How do you find what you need in the urban bush?” Lolly laughed at his play on words.
As the day wore on into the evening, the lineup for hot dogs was satisfied and the music got a little faster. Lolly got up and played a few songs with the last band of the street fest. The Muskrats stood at the front of the crowd and bathed in the music. With happy tears in their eyes, they had a group hug as the final ballad drew to a close.
Chapter 23
A Mile in City Moccasins
“All right, let’s get this place cleaned up!” Alan got the volunteers moving as the last notes faded into the evening.
Tear-down began as soon as the crowd started to thin. The musicians unplugged and hauled their equipment away. The volunteers of the I-AM Board were packing up the banners and supplies to be used at the next street fest that would be held in a different inner-city neighborhood.
The sun was nearing the horizon as Chickadee and Otter carried boxes of plastic forks and knives across the parking lot to Alan’s car. Brett skidded up on his bike. Otter dropped his box and stepped in front of Chickadee.
Br
ett saw the movement and winced.
“You guys don’t trust me now. I guess I deserve that,” Brett said sadly.
“Deserve what? Us thinking you’re a jerk?” Chickadee spat angrily.
“Yeah, that,” Brett said.
“We could have all been hurt. Otter did get hurt. You robbed us!” Chickadee shouted.
“I didn’t touch anyone!” Brett said, defensively.
“You set us up.” Otter’s voice was quiet, but it quivered with anger. “We would never have met those guys if you hadn’t taken us to that place.”
“I can’t believe we looked up to you once!” Chickadee waved her arm dismissively. “You’ve changed, Brett. Changed from when you were in Windy Lake.”
“You guys have, like, no idea!” Brett had taken their anger for a while, but now shot back with some of his own. “You don’t know what it’s like not to know anyone. You don’t know what it’s like to be the new kid in the city, on a poor street.”
“I would never scam you, Brett. Nobody could make me.” Otter looked him in the eye as he said it.
“You don’t know what it’s like….” Brett shook his head. “Once they’ve got you…”
“Who’s got you!?” Chickadee threw her hands in the air.
“Do you think those guys are my friends? Do you think I saw any of that money?” Brett shouted back. But then quieted down and looked off toward the rest of the volunteers working.
“Why doesn’t your brother help you?” Chickadee put her hands on her hips.
“He’s the one who got me into all this! My brother is a freakin’ gangster! Those dudes at The Crystal Palace are, like, the junior team for my brother’s crew.”
“You didn’t have to get us involved!” Otter flung his arm in an angry arc.
Brett looked at his feet and then off across the city. “Look, those guys are in my neighborhood, you know. There’s no way, like, for my brother and I to get away from them.” Brett’s voice wavered. “You know, there’s wolves in Windy Lake. But the inner city has a wolf pack in every neighborhood. And they’re always there, watching.”
The Case of the Missing Auntie Page 9
