by Wab Kinew
“Is he okay?”
“What’s the matter?”
Liumei’s medical training kicked in as she crawled through the questioners and their chatter. She reached to check Waawaate’s pulse and quickly confirmed his breathing.
Bugz remained still with fear as her parents spoke up.
“Leave him alone,” Bugz’s mother said.
“Yes, Liumei, back off,” her father said sharply, before his voice softened. “When someone faints in a ceremony like this, we have to let them be. He could be having a vision.”
Bugz read protest on Liumei’s face but watched her relent after scanning the unhurried looks on the faces of Summer and Frank. “Okay,” she sighed. “He’s still breathing. I’m guessing he’s not diabetic. He looks athletic. Is he epileptic?”
Her parents shook their heads. “He’s having a vision,” Frank repeated.
Bugz’s concern for her brother transformed into anger at her parents for not doing anything to help him. She panicked at seeing the one she’d always assumed was invincible now appear so vulnerable. He’s not having a vision, he’s hurt! She added this moment to her list of grievances.
Feng spoke. Bugz didn’t quite understand what he said, but she could see the effect of his words on his aunt. Liumei sat up straighter, effectively backing away from Waawaate.
Bugz wished for Feng to say something, anything else. She wanted the doctor to look at her older brother, to find out the problem, and to make him well again. She didn’t want Liumei to go along with what everyone said just because of supposed tradition. My brother is dying! Help him! She wanted to scream.
Bugz threw the blanket down and rushed to her brother, who still lay in the doorway of the sweat. As she fell to her knees, she heard the others begin to chastise her.
“Bugz, you can’t come in here right now,” her mother’s voice said.
“You can’t come in the sweat on your moon. It ain’t right,” the traitor said. Bugz resisted the urge to scream. She’d heard enough from this woman already tonight. Surely even she could see that this wasn’t a time for her posturing.
“She’s on her time? She’s going to make us all sick,” one of the men exclaimed.
Bugz cradled her brother’s head. His forehead felt too cold as she brushed the hair from his face. Tears welled in her eyes.
“Bugz, don’t,” her father said. “You know you can’t come into the lodge, not even the doorway.”
“Shut up!” Bugz shouted.
“Don’t talk to your father that way,” her mother scolded.
The traitor spoke up again. “You’re disrespecting your body bringing yourself in here like that. Your body’s too powerful to be around these men. Think of them. Think of their well-being.”
“No!” Bugz spoke through tears. “I’m not going to listen to your stupid rules while you ignore my brother. Waawaate’s lying here lifeless and all you can think about is the fact that I’m on my damn period.” This silenced Summer, Frank, and the others. Bugz sobbed and bowed her head, covering her brother’s face with her hair. Liumei bit her bottom lip. Bugz shuddered as she took a deep breath.
Waawaate stirred and blinked. Bugz felt his body come back to life as though he were returning from the promised land. He sat up and Bugz rubbed his back. Embarrassed more than anything, Waawaate assured the group he’d had no vision. Liumei recommended they take him to the hospital.
“After the sweat,” Waawaate said. “We’ve got three more rounds to do.”
“You sure?” Frank asked.
Waawaate nodded.
“Alright, at least let me grab the rocks then.” Frank crawled out of the lodge to grab the pitchfork. He barely looked at Bugz as he passed. She seethed.
Bugz helped Waawaate back into the lodge and took a seat beside him. She could feel the stares of all the other Anishinaabe people in the lodge. The traitor’s mouth was agape.
“I’m not leaving,” Bugz said. She began to pray.
CHAPTER 35
In the depths of Lake of the Torches, the Behemoth targeted Mishi-pizhiw in his sights. The giant beast slept soundly, curled like a house cat. Still, the Behemoth knew he couldn’t take his shot. His fire would bounce off the underwater demon’s back and only awaken him in a foul mood. From there, based on how the last few Clan:LESS raids had failed, the Behemoth assumed he’d end up dinner for the pissed-off leviathan. He lowered his sniper rifle.
Since the last battle, when they’d marked the location of this stone circle, Clan:LESS had used the tracking device planted on Feng to fill in some crucial missing information. Most importantly, they knew when Feng and Bugz logged in and when they left their bots in charge. On a few occasions, when Feng left his ’Versona on bot mode around Bugz, they’d also watched her emerge from the lake with equipment and animals. They knew she made stuff down here. Not wanting to provoke another battle, Alpha sent the Behemoth on a solo mission deep behind enemy lines. But now, a giant serpentine panther lay in the way of him completing his task.
“I’ve got eyes on the nest,” the Behemoth voice-commed back to Clan:LESS HQ. “But that giant water-cat is sitting guard on top of it. I need some kind of distraction. Otherwise, I’m bringing back nothing.”
The voice-com went silent. As he waited for a reply, the Behemoth increased the magnification in his heads-up display by a factor of one hundred and studied the armor plating on Mishi-pizhiw’s back. The cat shifted suddenly, apparently sensing the attention. He rolled over to face the Behemoth. His red eyes blinked twice quickly before he snuggled back to sleep.
The voice-com crackled as it returned to life, Alpha’s voice unmistakable. “Okay, we’ve got a helicopter sortie incoming in T-minus one minute. They’re going to lay down fire on some of the animals topside. We’re hoping to provoke a response from the Thunderbird, lead the birds to fire over the water, and then, based on what we know of its behavior, we’re hoping if some of the lightning hits the lake the big cat will rush to the surface to fight the bird. Capiche?”
The Behemoth sighed at Alpha’s overly militaristic lingo. At times like this, the Behemoth sensed that maybe Alpha was just a wannabe. He stifled this feeling. “Yeah…capiche.”
“Standing by?”
The Behemoth cringed. “Standing by.”
Like clockwork, the telltale reverberations of gunfire shook the lake bed. A few seconds later, the low rumble of thunder overtook the gunfire. At this, Mishi-pizhiw suddenly snapped to and craned his neck toward the surface. A few more volleys of thunder and gunfire and Mishi-pizhiw darted toward the shallow waters.
“Okay, that worked. Keep ’em busy as long as you can,” the Behemoth radioed home.
“We’ll try, but they’re barely hanging on already,” Alpha replied. “10-4.”
The Behemoth ignored this last message. He kicked his feet as fast as he could, swimming toward the nest. Once he’d arrived next to it, he tore the backpack quickly from his shoulders and unloaded its contents.
“How the heck does this thing work?” the Behemoth asked, forgetting his voice-com was on.
“I don’t know, stand inside it and visualize something cool,” Alpha suggested.
The Behemoth stepped inside the ring of stones tentatively, as though he might be electrocuted. As he realized no shock was forthcoming, he walked more casually toward the center. He held up a gun he wanted to upgrade. He closed his eyes. He scrunched his forehead. He opened his eyes only to find the same unimproved gun in his hands.
“Nothing happened,” he said.
“Think harder,” Alpha spoke through the voice-com.
“I am!”
“Try again!”
“I’m still trying!”
“Well, you’re obviously not trying hard enou—”
The Behemoth muted his voice-com.
He held the gun u
p in the dim light permitted by the depths above—an old revolver he’d picked up from a cowboy early on in his career in the Spirit World.
Suddenly, a bolt of lightning from the battle above plunged through the water and struck the gun. The Behemoth’s body coursed with electricity and charged the stones making up the nest around him. He felt the gun growing in his hand. He watched in amazement as the revolver grew and grew until it took the size and shape of an old automatic weapon called a Gatling gun. The Behemoth threw the Gatling gun to the ground outside the nest and set to work repeating his feat. With a second revolver in his left hand, he took an energy cannon and fired it directly at the nest with his right. Soon this gun also multiplied in size and power. The Behemoth repeated this process as many times as he could over the next ten minutes, creating a pile of supercharged weapons, including some innovations which were entirely new to Clan:LESS.
“Hey! Get out of there. Our guys G2G. They’re getting smoked and they’re worried Bugz is gonna log back in NE minute.” Alpha’s incoming text messages flashed on the Behemoth’s screen. He turned his voice-com back on.
“Hey boss, got your messages. No problem. I got more than enough.” The Behemoth gathered his haul and swam furiously for the shores on the far side of the lake from where the battle raged.
As he surfaced, a Clan:LESS helicopter scooped him and his loot up in a net and flew quickly back to headquarters.
“I’m back with the clan,” the Behemoth radioed again. He examined the giant weapons he’d just fabricated. “I think we just changed the game.”
CHAPTER 36
“Osteosarcoma.”
Bugz, her mother, and her father all stared at Liumei. The sounds of hospital machinery beeping and whirring marked the time passing as they contemplated the news.
“Osteosarcoma?” Bugz’s mom asked.
“Osteosarcoma,” Liumei repeated. She wore a stethoscope and a lanyard around her neck. She looked to Waawaate, sleeping in the hospital bed beside her. “It’s a form of bone cancer we sometimes see in children.”
“Cancer?” Bugz’s eyes welled with tears as her mother turned to her father. He pulled Bugz’s mother in. They cried and held each other tight. It looked like all they could do to stay upright. Bugz remained seated, looking at her hands in disbelief.
Bugz watched Liumei struggle to find words. “I don’t want to say we’re lucky—that’s the wrong word. But Waawaate did benefit from the fact the oncologist happened to be on-site today. Typically you’d need a referral and you’d have to wait quite a bit longer for this diagnosis.”
“How did this happen?”
“It’s difficult to say,” Liumei said. “I’m not an expert on cancers. But what I can tell you from my conversation with the cancer specialist is that there is a mass on Waawaate’s femur.” Bugz followed Liumei’s gaze down to the colored floor panels. “It’s quite advanced.”
“Is it terminal?” Bugz’s mother asked.
“It isn’t always terminal, depending on how early we catch it.” Liumei swallowed.
“Well, what does that mean? What’s going to happen?” Bugz’s father prodded.
“We can’t say for certain…” Liumei took a deep breath. “But like I said, the growth is advanced. Waawaate must’ve been sick for a long time and trying to tough it out. He would’ve felt a lot of pain. He must’ve been very stro—he must be very strong.” Bugz processed Liumei’s correction as the doctor spoke again. “There’s always hope. There’s always the people at the end of the bell curve who pull through.”
Bugz nodded, biting her bottom lip in an effort to keep the tears from consuming her. “Can you cure him?”
“We’ll try, and the oncologist wants a follow-up in the city—”
“Can you help my boy?!” Bugz’s mom interrupted and raised the tissue in her hand to emphasize her desperation.
“We’ll try,” Liumei said, tears now welling in her eyes as well. “We’re certainly going to give him every chance we can…I just don’t want to give you any unrealistic expectations.”
“Unrealistic expectations?” Frank’s gaze fell to the floor as he mulled the words. Bugz’s mother wrapped him in her arms again as if holding him together, and to stop him from sinking any further. Bugz ran to the door.
“I’m really sorry,” Bugz heard Liumei say as she reached the hallway.
Bugz rushed to a private waiting room down the hall and sat on a plastic chair. She pulled out her phone and scrolled without paying attention to anything on-screen. Her mother arrived a few minutes later and turned the volume down on the television babbling aimlessly on the wall.
“Hey,” her mother said.
“Hey.” Bugz looked up and noticed her father entering the room. “So is it really going to take him from us?” She studied their faces and developed an instant fear of the truth, a truth she both wanted never to hear and couldn’t stop herself from pursuing. Tears formed in her eyes.
Bugz let her mother pull her close. Her dad walked over and crouched next to the chairs where she and her mom sat.
“Tell me,” Bugz said.
“We have to remember your brother’s strong, very strong, and he’s going to fight this. Remember your brother’s a warrior,” Bugz’s mom said.
“Strongest warrior I’ve ever known,” her father interrupted.
“Don’t try and protect me.” Bugz felt more tears pushing up from inside. “Just tell me the truth!”
“The doctors are amazed at how long your brother must’ve been fighting this—”
“I know, I heard. But is he going to die?” Bugz interrupted.
“Buggy, you know we’re not supposed to talk like that,” her dad said.
“Just tell me the truth. Is he going to die?”
Her parents’ silence brought the truth closer to her. Bugz pulled out her phone and searched for “osteosarcoma,” swiping through answers about mortality rates, symptoms, and treatments. The search results painted a picture of a particularly brutal road ahead, of the road Waawaate had already walked on for so long without telling anyone. Bugz sighed loudly and pressed her head against her hands, one of them still clutching her phone. A tear ran across the screen.
“Why?” Bugz asked. Both of her parents shook their heads. “So, how long?”
“Buggy, you know your mom and I raised you not to talk like that.”
“Your dad’s right.”
“What can they do to help him?” Bugz’s voice betrayed her frustration. Her parents looked to each other but didn’t answer.
“What can they do?!” Bugz’s face reddened with anger. She stomped to the door and threw it open. In the hallway her phone lit up with a video call from Feng.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “Liumei said I should call. How’s your brother?”
“I can’t talk right now. I’m just leaving the hospital,” she sobbed.
“Okay, well, can we talk—”
Bugz terminated the call. The heavy exterior doors of the hospital slid open silently at her approach and she ran into the twilight.
CHAPTER 37
When Bugz reached the mouth of the bush trail, Feng stood waiting for her on his bike.
“Hey,” Bugz said. “How’d you know where I was?”
“How could I forget this place?” He examined the surroundings. “Scared the heck out of me.” They both chuckled. “Besides, you told me you like to come here.”
Bugz felt lighter. Feng remembered. Perhaps he knew her better than she thought. Maybe he really was more than just a Clan:LESS goon. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “He’s got cancer.”
“I’m sorry, Bugz,” Feng said. He wheeled his bike closer.
“I searched it up online,” Bugz replied. “I read up about symptoms and stuff. It said he might have a chance if they found it ear
ly…but they didn’t.”
Feng nodded his head and looked to the ground. Bugz buried her face in her hands. She didn’t want Feng to see her cry. She wasn’t sure why. Sniffing quickly, Bugz wiped her nose and cheek with her sleeve. “I was thinking about the fact that he passed out, though. And after watching some videos on that…he’s really sick. I don’t think he’ll…” Bugz couldn’t finish her sentence. Feng laid his bike down, hesitated for a breath, and then put his arms around her.
“My parents won’t even tell me what’s going on.” Bugz pulled away from Feng and wiped her eyes again. “I mean, they told me he has cancer. But I know they know more.”
“Maybe they don’t know anything else.”
“No, they do, that’s how Anishinaabe people are. Proud. Private. Whatever. They won’t tell me how long he has.”
“I could ask my aunt. She’s treating him, right? She’ll know.”
“Can you?”
Feng opened a video chat screen on his phone and reached Liumei, still at the hospital, stethoscope around her neck and a trace of redness in her dewy eyes.
“Hey, Feng.”
“Hey, Auntie, I got Bugz here…” Feng tilted his phone to include Bugz in the video chat window. Bugz waved, sniffling again as she did.
“Aw honey, I’m so sorry. I just want you to know this isn’t because of something he did or something he didn’t do. This just happens sometimes.”
“That’s actually why we’re calling, or sort of,” Feng jumped in. “Bugz was wondering, or I guess we were both wondering, if you could tell us more about what’s happening with him.”
“I know you want to know. But you should really talk to your parents.”
“I did,” Bugz responded. “They won’t tell me anything.”
“Well, I should leave it up to them—”
“C’mon, Auntie.”
“It’s not my place to intervene in a family’s business.”
Bugz shook her head, more tears welling in her eyes. “Please!” Bugz’s shouting seemed to hit Liumei hard. Bugz saw it on her face.
