Sanctified

by Maggie Blackbird

  Raven’s spine froze. She’d almost said, I’d be proud to call you my brother-in-law. Marriage? She’d only known Jude since the beginning of February. Yet, somehow, besides Jude, the Matawapit family had wormed their way into her heart.

  “I... I owe you an apology.” She kept her hand under Emery’s warm palm.

  “An apology?” Emery peered.

  “Yeah.” Raven wet her lips. “The way I treated you, your family... before I got to know Jude.”

  “It’s okay.” He squeezed her fingers. “What matters is we’re not on opposite sides anymore. Right?”

  Raven nodded, not surprised Emery refused her apology. “Who has the kids?”

  “They’re with Jude. He’s driving while they run from house to house delivering the letters.”

  “He’s been busy? I wasn’t sure if he knew what happened.”

  Emery removed his palm from Raven’s hand. “He doesn’t know. When you texted, Darryl was getting ready to head out. He took the snowmobile instead. Like I said, it’s not my place to tell him.”

  The sound of the snowmobile’s vroom vroom invaded the kitchen. Keemooch shot out from under the table and bolted for the back door, barking.

  Emery stood and opened the fridge. He withdrew the salad and dished up Darryl a plate of food.

  The back door opened. Keemooch ran out just as a red-faced, eyes-flashing Darryl stormed inside, holding a piece of paper he thrust in Emery’s face.

  “Read this,” he said through clenched teeth. “I can’t believe him. I really can’t believe him.”

  While Emery read the piece of paper, Darryl huffed back and forth across the small kitchen. When Emery’s jawline tightened, Raven pressed her back into the chair. Clayton. She should’ve known he’d act fast if he knew Darryl was on to him.

  “This is...” Emery sputtered, which seemed so unlike him to react with a face seen in comedic movies. “This is...”

  “Can I see?” Raven asked. This had to be really bad.

  Emery dropped the letter on the table. He placed his fingers at his temples, chin on his chest.

  Raven scooped up the letter.

  Boozhoo, my fellow members of Ottertail Lake,

  It is I, Clayton Kabatay, a proud Anishinaabe currently running for chief of your community. As a candidate, I’m dedicated to preserving the culture and integrity of a place we call home. However, I regret to inform you that my opponent, Darryl Keejik, does not.

  In his own words, Mr. Keejik admitted to soliciting the sexual services of male prostitutes while in Winnipeg. Ask him yourself and see if he can deny this, because I heard his admission with my own ears.

  Is this who you want to run your community? A man who lies and deceives his own spouse? Think hard, my fellow people, because charity starts at home, does it not? And if a man lies and is unfaithful to the person he claims to love above all others, would he not do the same to those he’s leading? Lie to the people? Be unfaithful to the people?

  Greed is what’s in his heart. This more than proves Mr. Keejik lives to serve his own agenda—which goes against the teachings of our ancestors, and something our people abhor.

  Furthermore, this incident—and who knows how many others occurred—happened while Mr. Keejik was on business for Ottertail Lake. What kind of man uses time allocated for his people to seek his own immoral pleasure? Think about how he fought to fund a place responsible for the cultural genocide of our people. What else is Mr. Keejik planning if he becomes chief?

  I know Mr. Keejik will respond in protest to my accusations, and I ask him to please do. But keep in mind if he can lie to his own spouse, he’ll lie to you.

  As for me, I’m only passing on information I heard Mr. Keejik say outside of Kiss the Cook. Ask him if he can deny his words.

  Meegwetch,

  Clayton Kabatay

  Just like Emery had done, Raven dropped the letter.

  Chapter Thirty: Lean on Me

  Raven rode in the back of the truck for the emergency meeting at the Matawapits’ house. She continued to squeeze Keemooch’s fur. Bandit and Lucky barked and yipped, both fidgeting so much they’d squashed Raven against the passenger door.

  “That son of a bitch.” Darryl hadn’t stopped swearing. He’d cursed when they’d left the house. Had cussed during the drive. And continued to utter profanities as they pulled up to the small abode with the blue siding and white trim on Sucker Road.

  At the sight of Jude’s dark-blue truck, Raven engulfed Keemooch in a bear hug.

  Darryl threw the gearshift into park. “Let’s fucking go.” He tossed open the door and slammed it shut.

  Emery inched from the vehicle. The dogs squirmed, and both jumped the console to get out. Raven cracked open her door. Keemooch squealed and leaped off her lap. The black dog bolted after his bigger counterparts.

  Raven stayed behind Emery, both dragging their feet along the shoveled walkway while Darryl trounced ahead, already stomping up the four stairs leading to the porch. He threw open the door and disappeared inside.

  “I wish I never would’ve seen the text—”

  “The past is the past. There’s nothing you can do about it. Let’s stay in the present.” Emery’s suggestion was smooth and comforting. “C’mon.” He motioned at the door.

  “You go ahead first.”

  “No. Guests first.” He opened the door and gestured.

  Raven edged inside to a hallway spanning the width of the house. To her right was an archway, welcoming her to the living room, where Noah sat in front of the coffee table, working on something. Rebekah colored beside him.

  Emery took their coats. He hung them on the jacket tree. Raven removed her mukluks and placed them beside Darryl’s.

  “Who’re... “ Noah, Jude’s mini-me, covered his mouth. “I mean, may I ask who you are? I’m Noah.”

  Emery must’ve sent his nephew a cautionary look, since Noah had turned into the child of manners. As for Rebekah, she also possessed Jude’s coloring, except for her bright-blue eyes and willowy limbs. Her black hair was French-braided, the tail tumbling down her delicate back. She offered a small smile.

  “This is Raven Kabatay—”

  “Oh wow, a Kabatay?” Noah’s mouth fell open.

  “Hey...” A warning lingered in Emery’s gentle tone. “What did we say about treating everyone with respect?”

  “But Uncle Darryl called Clayton a—” Noah closed his trap again, since Emery must have shot another look.

  “Your uncle shouldn’t speak about anyone that way. I’ll talk to him.” Emery took Raven’s arm and led her through the living room to the dining room.

  The cozy home was straight out of an old-fashioned movie with its older pieces of traditional furniture and decor. There was even a china cabinet. Jude sat at the foot of the cherrywood table and the deacon at the head. Darryl occupied one of the chairs on the right.

  Raven glanced to her left, where Mrs. Matawapit busied herself preparing drinks in the kitchen, a sweet room as dainty as the rest of the home. The only masculine piece of furniture was the brown recliner in the living room, no doubt where the deacon liked to relax.

  “Have a seat.” Emery pulled out a chair adjacent from the deacon. At least he’d wisely chosen to seat Raven far from Jude.

  “Thanks.” Raven stared at the elegant lace place setting in front of her, but Jude’s gaze seemed to burn into her skin. She peered to the left. He sat straight in the chair, hands clasped together and pressed against his mouth, elbows on the table.

  Emery drew out the chair beside Raven, serving as a barrier between her and Jude.

  Mrs. Matawapit entered, carrying a tray of goodies and a teapot. She set everything down and sat across from Raven and adjacent to the deacon.

  “I’m glad you could join us. We never formally met. Please call me Maria,” Mrs. Matawapit said in a stiff, graceful voice.

  “It’s good to meet you, too,” Raven squeaked out.


  From Mrs. Matawapit’s pinched expression, she probably knew Raven was seeing her son. “Would you like some tea?”

  “Thanks. I would.”

  “I’ll pour.” Emery reached for the teapot.

  The deacon held the letter from Clayton. Darryl must’ve given it to him earlier. He frowned. “There isn’t much we can do. We delivered your letter to everyone. It’s up to the community to decide who they’ll believe.”

  “Not much we can do?” Darryl’s small black eyes flashed sharper than the glare of light reflecting off a knife blade. “I’m gonna phone—”

  “The kids are here. Enough swearing. They already heard you calling Clayton ten different kinds of names.” Exasperation filled Emery’s words.

  Darryl sank in the chair, firing his knife-piercing glare at the table.

  “I think the debate should proceed.” Without Raven having to look his way, she knew the deep baritone belonged to Jude.

  “The debate?” Confusion flecked Mrs. Matawapit’s gaze.

  “Clayton planned on calling me out at a debate in April,” Darryl muttered. He shoved his spoon around in his cup.

  “We should consider an open forum, though. And it’ll happen sooner, because we’re going to call him out.” Jude’s hard stare traveled around the table, intense enough for Raven to squirm and duck her head. “Next week’s March break. We’ll have time to prepare an agenda and for me to get Darryl up to snuff on everything. We’ll host the forum the following Monday.”

  “And what am I s’posed to say that I haven’t already said in my letter?” Darryl snorted.

  “You’ll reiterate what you said in the letter and then allow the people to ask questions.” Jude pinned his hard stare on Darryl.

  “What?” Darryl wrinkled his nose. “I already let people into my personal life the last time the Kabatays pulled this kind of stunt. I had to speak on behalf of the Traditionalists Society when they wanted to cut the church’s hydro bill. Enough, man. Enough. I’m not dragging Em through anymore bullshit.”

  “So, what are you saying exactly?” Jude leaned in, still staring at Darryl.

  “I’m done.” Darryl threw out his hands. “When I signed on to run as chief, it was to help the people, help our community, not have everyone asking me what I do when I’m away on a business trip.”

  Face reddening, Jude’s look formed into a disgusted glower. “For crying out loud—”

  “It’s okay.” The soft reply came from Emery.

  Darryl gasped. “Okay?”

  “There’s nothing to hide. And if you’re going to be in a public position, I must accept people will try get a glimpse into our personal life. I’m used to everyone poking their noses in my space. I did so as a seminarian.” Emery reached for a napkin and crumbled the paper in his fist.

  “I know what being chief means to you. This is the start of your political career. It’s why you worked hard for your master’s. I fully support what you want. It’s what spouses do.” Emery released the napkin.

  Raven gripped her teacup. “I’m sorry.”

  The stares from the Matawapits seemed to pinch into her flesh without Raven having to glance up.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Jude’s voice was his firm authoritative tone. “Look at me.” This time his command was pure silk.

  Raven raised her head to meet Jude’s comforting eyes, as soothing as being draped in his arms.

  “It’s not your fault,” he continued in his silken tone. “Your brother had choices. So did your sisters. The rest of your family. You had a choice, too, and you chose to honor the Seven Grandfathers.”

  “I know.” Raven squared her shoulders. If Kokum was alive, she’d tell Raven, in her thick Anishinaabe accent, to be proud of who she was, not hide in her chair.

  “Raven’s decision cost her more than her family.” Jude banged his finger on the table. “It cost her a dream.”

  Everyone’s eyes shifted back and forth in their sockets. Then their curious peers settled on Raven.

  “She was set to buy the diner. Cookie offered it to her. She wanted a chance to make more than minimum wage. This is her sacrifice for us. For Creator.” Jude shoved away his tea. “I don’t wanna hear any more about withdrawing your nomination.” He thrust his finger at Darryl.

  “Oh, my Lord. Your family abandoned you?” Mrs. Matawapit gasped. “But housing’s so tight.” She gaped at the deacon. “She’ll stay here. We have a spare bedroom.”

  Raven almost fell out of her chair. “Oh... uh... it’s okay. I’m staying at Emery and Darryl’s.”

  “Heavens.” Mrs. Matawapit placed her hand on her chest. “It’s a two-bedroom like ours and crowded with dogs and cats. Please, I insist you stay here.”

  “Well... I don’t know...” What could Raven say? It went against tradition to rudely turn down such a generous offer. “Thank you. I accept.”

  The deacon looked at his teacup. His pinched expression softened. His mouth, the same one Jude had inherited, spread into a kind smile. “It’ll be a pleasure to have you here.”

  Jude slid his hands into his pants pockets. His intense eyes settled on the deacon. “We’ll... uh... talk later. I gotta get the kids home. It’s late.”

  “We should go, too.” Darryl stood.

  “I need to retrieve my stuff.” Raven also stood.

  The room was small. A double bed. A wood dresser and mirror. A nightstand. Raven had already hung her belongings in a wardrobe and had stored away her beauty essentials in the bathroom. Mrs. Matawapit had explained Jude’s and the kids’ fall, spring, and summer clothes were stuffed in the closet.

  She’d shown Raven around the house. There hadn’t been much to see, but it’d been nice to steal glimpses at the rest of the feminine furniture. As for the deck’s wicker furnishings, everything sat in the shed for the winter months, but there’d been a table and a couple of old chairs where Raven could vape. Mrs. Matawapit had explained this was where the deacon enjoyed a cigarette.

  Raven’s cell phone dinged. She scooped it off the homemade quilt and relaxed on the bed. The texter was Jude.

  How’re you? I wish we could have talked, but I had the kids.

  She typed back...

  I’m fine. It’s a little strange being here. I’ll admit I feel out of place. But I’ll get used to it.

  Raven would. Her female ancestors had endured worse at the hands of the residential schools and government. Still, she needed time to digest the loss of her family.

  Her phone rang. She accepted the video chat. Jude’s handsome face appeared on the screen. This lightened the loneliness sitting at the bottom of her chest.

  “Hey,” he said, his strong voice quiet for once.

  “Hey, yourself.” His deep-set eyes warmed her skin and produced a light glow in her belly.

  “I don’t like this.” He frowned.

  “Don’t like what?”

  “Not being there when you really need me.” He lowered his gaze and glanced away.

  “I’m a big girl.” But Raven did wish he was here to see her through such a dark time. “I can handle it.”

  “I wanted to let you know I’m here for you. Okay?” Jude’s gaze returned to the phone screen, mouth firm. “I’ll see you tomorrow night at class.”

  “Okay.”

  “If you need a ride anywhere, let me know. I’ll make sure you always have one.” His voice took on his serious tone.

  “It’s okay. Your dad’s driving me to work tomorrow. He’s also driving me to class.”

  “Dad...” Jude glanced away. Was Raven’s imagination running wild, or did a look of guilt creep momentarily into his eyes? “Sure. Sounds good. Let him know you won’t need a ride after class.”

  The Matawapits were pretty religious. Would they frown upon Raven sneaking off to see Jude? At least Mrs. Matawapit no longer stiffened her shoulders. Once she’d heard what Raven had lost, Jude’s mother seemed to change h
er attitude.

  “Well?” Jude winked. “Am I seeing you after class?”

  “Yep. I can hardly wait.”

  * * * *

  Jude set the thermos in the back seat of the truck. This was getting old—sneaking off to Geoff’s Camp for the sake of the kids.

  “If I could talk to them this week, I would, but they’re pretty stressed. They don’t want to go to Kenora.” He tilted the cup and sipped the black tea he’d made earlier.

  “I understand.” Raven placed her hand over Jude’s resting on the console between them.

  “But you deserve...” She’d sacrificed too much. “You deserve more.”

  “They’re kids. I understand. Really, I do.” Her gaze lingered on his. “They’ve only been here since February. I’m fine meeting them when you think it’s the best time.”

  “I know.” Jude set the cup between his thighs. He squeezed Raven’s fingers with his other hand.

  “I don’t need you to fix this. Isn’t that what you do?” Raven’s sensual mouth formed into a coy smile. “You’re trying to fix this.”

  “You’re right.” Again, Jude squeezed her fingers. “I am.”

  “All I need is your support. Nothing more.”

  Her reassuring words eased away the knots in Jude’s shoulders. He couldn’t help but ask, “Need anything else?”

  Raven giggled. “I think we’d better wait. Your mom’s probably staring at the clock.”

  “My mother...” Jude snickered. “Dad and I had a great chat at the church...” Too great of a chat. He loathed hiding the truth about Dad and Mrs. Kabatay’s love affair from Raven.

  He lifted her hand and pressed his lips against her satiny skin. The glitter in Raven’s eyes said she wanted him as much as he wanted her. “Perhaps I can interest you in staying at my place while the kids are away. They leave Friday afternoon.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” She planted a supple kiss on his mouth. Her tender skin warmed his lips. “Looking forward to it, sexy.”