The Exile Book of Native Canadian Fiction and Drama

by Daniel David Moses

  I finally admitted it: goddamn this Beaver Fever. I was so fucking lonely and one woman had to be like any other, right? I cruised by Donna’s with the Madness feeling me up. The air was sweet with the aroma of leaves freshly burned in the front yards all over town.

  Sure enough, there was a pile of smouldering leaves off to the side of their property and two rakes propped against their porch. Donna was sitting out on her deck with her folks. She saw me and sat up. I stopped, waved her over. She looked at her folks and they checked me out. Her Mom wanted to wave but looked at her hubby. Donna’s Dad – Ronny? Donny? – I could never remember his name – looked back down at his paper and Mom put her spatula down. They looked at their daughter, but Donna was already on her way over. She was smiling and blushing. I saw those big knockers of hers sway together as she made her way to my truck, and I saw she was wearing moccasins.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “Nice moccasins.”

  She looked down and I checked her out. “Thank you. My Mom and I made them.” I started to harden, just thinking about it. I got brave. “I missed you last night.”

  She smiled the sexiest smile and looked left. “I didn’t think you ever heard me.”

  I looked away. “I’m playing hard to get.”

  She laughed and whispered, “You always have. Did you get my CD?”

  I nodded. “She’s pretty good.”

  “What’s your favourite song?” she asked, and I could tell she was testing me, reading the wind ahead of us.

  I thought about it. “That one that goes, ‘Baby I’m lost for words.’”

  Her eyes brightened. “That’s mine, too.”

  “Can I see you tonight?”

  I saw a flush at the base of her neck. She had a little fire in her. “Sure.”

  “Where and when?”

  “Meet me at the park at eleven.”

  She looked at her folks and looked back at me. “Okay.”

  “Dress sexy,” I said, and I was surprised I said it. Both of us were shocked with my hunger. Her mouth parted and she nodded before looking away. She was blushing. So was I. I drove away feeling like Rocky.

  The other good thing that happened occurred on Day Two of being blacklisted: Pops knocked on my door.

  “Come in,” I said and sat up.

  He saw his stack of Playboy and smiled. “Good reading, hey?”

  I nodded. “I’m learning.”

  He chuckled. “I know the Posties think we’re swingers, but we renew our subscriptions each Christmas. I can’t remember how it started, but I couldn’t imagine this house without ’em.”

  I smiled. “Me either.”

  “You know, son,” he said, and there was his toothpick. “I want you to know I am proud of you, and we stand by you. I think you calling social services took courage, and this is a time that will show you who your true friends are. Your mother and I, well...” He put his hand on mine. “You’re a man now.” He pulled out the keys to his truck and handed them to me.

  Surprised, I asked, “What’s this?”

  “She’s yours now. Take good care of her.”

  I sat up on the bed. Dad’s truck – mine?

  “She’s got four months left on insurance. After that, it’ll be in your name. You’re in charge of putting gas in her, and she could use an oil change before the snow comes.”

  I was speechless.

  He held out his hand. “Deal?”

  I could not believe it. I took his hand. “Deal.”

  He hugged me and said, “Love you, son.”

  I felt the tears well up and had to wait a bit. “Love you too.”

  “Take her for a cruise,” he said. “Your Mom’s worried sick, and it’ll do her good to know you’re getting out.”

  It was ten at night. “You sure?”

  He patted my shoulder. “Sure.”

  Best ride of my life. I put on one of my Dad’s tapes: The Outfield’s “Taking My Chances.” I cranked it as I cruised. Got out. Saw the townies. Rode by Jonathan’s. Saw his light on but didn’t honk. I bet he was practicing his guitar and listening to The Cult. I bet he was getting his hair cut to betray me even more. We were supposed to grow it out until we graduated from PWS. Cheap.

  I missed the way we could just call each other up to call each other down.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey. I heard you got a big one.”

  “Uh huh. That’s right. How’s you doin’?”

  “Got a sore cock and a full belly.”

  “Same, baby. Same.”

  I thought about how we used to go snowshoeing out by the highway and one of us – usually Jon – would always say, “They say the grandfathers always take care of you when you’re on the land.”

  Then we’d pretend to be Cree and go, “Tapwe. Tapwe.”

  I drove by the church and shook my head. The truth never set me free. Doubled back and went down the figure-eight loop to the airport and, despite my nervousness, drove down the clutch-my-sack (Raven talk for cul-de-sac) to where the principal lives.

  The lone streetlight caught the hood of the truck, and I could see the dents my father couldn’t – or didn’t mention – from the afternoon Jonathan and I practised being the Dukes of Hazzard, rolling across the hood of the truck in imaginary getaways.

  “I’m Luke!” Jonathan slid across the hood.

  I did too. “I’m puke!”

  We fell on our knees and held our hands out to the spruce trees. “We’re the Dukes, and we’re gonna plug you through your panties!”

  God, we were like eleven years old. Man that was fun. That was the day we tried Red Man chew like old timers, and threw up in the potato field on the way home for supper.

  I got out of the truck, pissed on the principal’s lawn, gave him the finger. “That’s haunted ground now, fucker,” I said. “I hope you burn in hell for what you did.”

  Just as I hopped in my truck and pulled away, the lights caught something and I slammed on the brakes. There. By the picture window. Someone had touched the house with bloody hands. Wendy?

  “Fuck,” I whispered.

  It was the spookiest thing: a single red handprint on the front of the white house.

  “Fuck,” I said again and drove away.

  I swerved to Jonathan’s part of town and stopped outside his house, “And fuck you, Jonathan, for not backing me up!” before smoking the tires and racing away.

  I saw his bedroom light turn on in the rearview, but nobody ran out of his house. And that was when I saw another handprint in front of Baxter’s house. From what I read in the paper, he was charged with molesting kids at his son’s sleepovers. He put something in the food. The kids were never really asleep; they were almost unconscious when he played with their bodies. What the fuck was going on?

  Eleven o’clock. On the road. Picked Donna up, and she never looked finer: jean jacket, hair long, tight jeans and new shoes. Perfume in the cab and she couldn’t look at me as we cruised down the highway. Was she a virgin? I didn’t have the balls to ask. I was thinking about Janette and the Slug. No cars at her house. Or his. Maybe they would accidentally surprise us in their vehicle as they searched for a place to make out.

  We drove down the highway to the towers. I pulled up, turned off the truck but kept the tunes running. I’d brought Samantha Fox and I could tell she loved this. I stared straight ahead and felt her huge eyes on me.

  “Strip,” I said and looked right at her. “Show off for me.”

  And she did. Right down to her bra and panties. Donna took her socks off and hissed. “The floor’s cold.”

  I winced when I thought about how I should have cleaned the truck out.

  “Okay,” she said. “Your turn.”

  I pulled my shirt over my head, unzipped my pants, took them off and kept my Calvin K’s on. She was looking at The Hammer straining to get out. People thought I’d banged my share, but I hadn’t. Fooled around. Got a sloppy lick from a Hay River girl with carrot shr
edder teeth, but no pelt.

  “I love your lips,” she said.

  “Take off your bra,” I said.

  She looked into my eyes. “I always have, Gerald.”

  I smiled because I felt that and it felt sweet.

  “Turn up the heat,” she said.

  I did and she reached behind to reveal the most beautiful knockers in town: slopers that supported their own weight with a little bit of side swell. Lovely nipples as long as bullets and cookies as big as loonies. “Damn,” I said.

  She covered her chest. “What?”

  “When did you get that body of yours?”

  She was horrified. “Why?”

  “’Cause you are hot.”

  She was still frozen but looked down. She cleared her throat. “Since grade ten.”

  I couldn’t believe what a treasure I’d found. I started sudsing up when she asked, “Bring any condoms?”

  “No,” I said. “You?”

  “No,” she said. “I thought you—”

  Too late. I was so horny I was shivering and started to kiss her. I pulled her panties off and I could feel her skin against mine. She tasted good, smelled great. Before she knew it, I spread her legs and she leaned back.

  “If you love me and my lips,” I said, “you’re going to love this.”

  I pull my gonch off and there, fully exposed, rose my hot tusk rising – The Hammer.

  “God,” she said. She couldn’t catch her breath.

  I smiled. “Yeah.”

  “You better not give me the dose, Gerald,” she said and pointed at me.

  “You too,” I said and pointed back.

  And we burst out laughing. I was surprised at how good she looked naked. I looked at her fur. She was quiet for a bit before she said, “Don’t knock me up.”

  I scooted towards her trying to aim. “I won’t.”

  She gripped me with her hand and squeezed. “No hickeys or doing your business inside of me, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  She guided me into her and I melted with how hot she was inside. Even my toes started to shiver. And I was shameless. I squeezed her tits and ass and burned my mouth through her neck. I gave her monkey bites all over. I scared myself with how ferocious I was and the whole time she loved everything I gave her. I thought she was gonna blow my eardrums she was so loud.

  I could not believe what a great body she had.

  So this is how it is? I thought as I glided inside her. This isn’t so hard. There was a wet burning heat inside of her and every thrust only got us hotter. I thought I was gonna lose it. I was worried I couldn’t come but then I thought about Janette. She tightened and tried to kick away. “No! Not yet. Not inside me.”

  But I only came harder. It came searing out of me so perfectly I even surprised myself by crying out, grabbing her shoulders and biting her neck.

  “Fuck sakes,” she said and pushed me hard.

  “Sorry.”

  “What the fuck were you thinking? I told you not to!”

  “I wasn’t – Sorry! Take it easy.”

  “Take it easy? I’m not on the pill, Gerald.”

  I looked at her, made sure no one was coming down the road. No romance here.

  She got dressed. I got dressed. We argued back to town. I told her I was sorry a hundred times in the longest twelve minutes of my life that it took to get her home.

  “I’m not going home like this,” she said. “Take me to the gas station. I need to wash up. My Mom’ll be waiting for me at the house.”

  Fuck sakes. I did. I pulled up and she got out before I could say anything. I bought her an Orange Crush and I grabbed a Coke. When the cooler door opened, I caught a whiff of myself and I smelled us together. Sex!

  Lisa Snow was working the counter. Her eyes followed Donna, and I just knew she couldn’t wait for me to leave so she could call her friends.

  “Hey,” I said as I put the drinks on the counter.

  She nodded, rang it up and looked out the window. “Two-fifty.”

  I gave her a loonie and a toonie. “Keep it,” when she tried to hand me back my change. She still didn’t look at me. Well, now that I know what to do, I could fuck her next, if I wanted to.

  “Loser,” she whispered as I walked away.

  “No cock for you,” I said loud enough for her to hear as I opened the door.

  Donna washed up, came out smelling great with that perfume of hers.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “I can’t believe this,” she said and slammed the door. She was really mad. I’d never seen her mad before and it scared me.

  “We’ll cruise, okay?”

  We cruised to the airport, and I felt bad. She didn’t deserve that. I put Van Halen on and “When Love Walks In” came on. We were quiet for a bit, both wishing for something neither of us could have.

  After a while I said, “Come on now. Don’t be like that.”

  “Do you do this to all your girlfriends?” she asked and looked out her window. She didn’t open her Orange Crush.

  I didn’t want to go for the sympathy vote, but I told her. “That was my first time.”

  She looked at me. “What?”

  I told her again. “Honest. You’re my first.”

  “Stop the truck!” she yelled.

  I pulled over and she was hugging me and kissing me all over my face. “Oh thank you thank you thank you,” she said. “Thank you, Gerald.”

  She was happy and I was relieved. “I’m sorry I was rough,” I said. “I was just nervous, I guess.”

  “Be as rough as you want,” she said, “I just don’t want a

  baby yet.”

  She rubbed her tummy when she said that and that scared me. “Me too,” I peeped.

  “Let’s cruise,” she said and she was smiling. “First time, huh?”

  I blushed. “Yes.”

  “Honest?”

  “Honest,” I said. “Don’t tell anyone.”

  “I won’t.”

  I gave her a mean look. “Do not tell your cousins.”

  She crossed her arms. “I won’t.”

  “You better not.” I said, “especially Bonny.”

  She reached out and touched my dimple, and for some reason we burst out laughing. I felt great. I felt really good.

  By then it was midnight. I thought, if I’m going to get it when I get home, I might as well get it good. We cruised around. Did the figure-eight route between Kid City and the airport and we drove by the principal’s turn-off.

  “Stop,” she said.

  “No,” I said.

  She touched my wrist. “Please.”

  I stopped, backed up, and turned into the clutch-my-sack facing the house. There was that red handprint again. My heart raced wild and I finished my Coke. I pointed to the handprint and she leaned forward. “What is that?”

  I shrugged and flashed my brights on it. “Don’t know.”

  “What happened to your thumb?” she asked. “And your wrists. What are they – those marks?”

  “Huh?”

  She peeled back my sleeves to reveal the spruce gum stains and scrapes from bark bite. “Suicide,” I said and she covered her mouth. I burst out laughing. “No. I’m sorry. That wasn’t funny.”

  Her eyes were huge.

  “From work,” I said. “The bark of the trees slices me up when I pull it off.”

  “Why are the marks so black?”

  “Spruce gum.”

  She punched my arm. “Don’t joke about suicide!”

  “Hey,” I pulled away. “Sorry. You really make me nervous, you know.”

  She pulled away from me. “Well so do you.”

  “Hey,” I said softly.

  “Hey what?”

  I held out my arm and she looked at me. What was that in her eyes – disappointment? She scooted over and I put my arm around her, and it hit me that we were sitting in my truck like every couple in Simmer does when they make it official. My back started to burn. She had clawed me
up!

  “You did the right thing,” she said.

  I tried to figure out which room had been Wendy’s. “You figure?”

  She nodded and leaned into me. “Can I ask you something?”

  I shrugged. “Go ahead.”

  “How did you know?”

  I took a big breath. My folks hadn’t even asked me this yet. I knew they were biding their time and giving me mine.

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” she said.

  Her hair smelled nice. “If you give me a sip of your Orange Crush, I’ll tell you, but don’t tell anyone, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I took three mouthfuls and handed it back. I couldn’t look at her.

  “It was Wendy.”

  “What about her?”

  “Well, you know she was slow, hey?”

  She nodded.

  “Did you know she was Dogrib?”

  “No.”

  “She is. Same as me. In fact, we’re probably related. We were at track practise. This was when Jonathan was still my friend. Well, there we were, getting ready for the high jump when Wendy laid down, took off her clothes and started playing with herself.”

  Donna cleared her throat and put her hand on my leg. I looked at the principal’s house and wondered, which room didn’t you rape her in?

  “But how did you know?”

  I looked at those trees. “This may sound sick, but she had a hot body. The boys knew it. We all knew it. The way she was playing with herself…”

  She was quiet for a bit before she answered, “Okay.”

  “Well, she was doing this for show. She was looking at all of us and licking her lips. I don’t know where the fuck she got it, but, somehow, she’d smeared lipstick on her lips and was trying to be all sexy, and I could tell this was rehearsed. Like she was trained, you know? And then I saw her toenails.”

  “What about them?”

  I sat up and flashed my brights on that handprint. “They were painted red. Like that.”

  “So?”

  “A sexy, deep red. The kind women wear.”

  Donna was quiet, giving me the space I needed.

  “Did you ever see his wife?” I asked.

  “I keep thinking I did, but now I don’t know.”

  “You couldn’t miss her. She was two hundred and forty pounds. She didn’t wear nail polish like that. She was a Bible thumper, remember?”