The 53rd Parallel

by Carl Nordgren

  “I'll get a room at the Clarence Hotel an' expect you Thursday. If I can't get us tickets for the flight on Friday, we'll have seats on a flight to New York by Saturday.”

  “I'll be there Thursday.”

  When Brian got off the bus at Cong early the next afternoon, it was his first time back since the night he was banished from his village. His stomach churned and his legs were weak. His plan was to walk directly to Eamon's cottage and knock on the door. He would offer his apologies to any and all who presented themselves, and if he wasn't told to leave, if anyone was still listening, he would tell them about his trip and the plans. And then he would ask for their blessing for this endeavor. He knew his dreams of forgiveness were too grand to consider real.

  Over his shoulder was a sack filled with the gifts for Tommy, Katie, and Patrick that Brian had collected the past years during his travels. There were nights he dreamt his children were again in his care, and the next day he made a point of finding a gift for one of them. He'd leave the bag of gifts at the doorstep of Eamon's cottage if nothing else.

  He walked around the village, stepping over the tumbled down low spots on the stonewalls so he could cut across fields to get to Eamon's cottage. He crested a hillock that bordered Eamon's land and there was Katie, collecting wildflowers, not thirty yards from him.

  She looked up and saw the big man standing there. It took a moment for her to recognize her father, then she froze when she did, a look of terror on her face that dropped Brian to his knees. With his movement she turned and fled, spooking the milk cow grazing nearby. Brian stood, but when she looked back to check on him, he realized his getting back up must look like he was going to pursue her. She shrieked and he sat back down, so heavy he felt he'd never get up.

  He had imagined anger and had even wondered what hate on a child's face might look like. He hadn't expected full-on terror though, and the hot fear of it unnerved him.

  He sat, fighting his sobs. He hoped Eamon would come out when Katie calmed enough to explain he was there. Still sitting, he picked the flowers in his reach and with each one he told Katie he was sorry.

  His cousin came around the corner of the cottage and slowly walked up the slope, following the path Katie had made in the tall grasses and stopping where Katie had stood.

  “I'm only surprised you haven't tried somethin' sooner.”

  Brian was grateful he came out.

  “You told me to stay away.”

  “I'm surprised you have.”

  “How's Katie?”

  Eamon answered first by shaking his head. “Katie and Patrick begged me to keep you from comin' any closer.”

  “I come to apologize.”

  “Sure you have.”

  “I've come to apologize for what I did, Eamon.”

  “Tell me, Brian. Tell me what you did.”

  Brian slowly got to his feet and looked his cousin straight on.

  “I haven't pretended for one moment it was anythin' other than what it was. It was an evil act of a cowardly man, the most despicable thing a father could ever do.”

  “An' so I cast out the evil-doer.”

  “Yes, an' I thank you for that.”

  “Do ya' now? You thank me for sendin' you away?”

  “I don't know if the ancestors had it all figured out, but I've come to understand somethin'… that I had to be cast out, for reasons you may not even know.”

  “So you're a wise man now.”

  “It's for the good of the village, to restore peace, yes. But I've learned that evil-doers are exiled for our own good as well… Because it is our only chance to change, to fight the evil in us. If we have any chance of defeatin' it, we have to go away.”

  “I did it to protect the children from a violent man.”

  “Yes, yes, yes. It starts with that. But when you cast out the evil-doers, it's easier for us to see what we did… an' I found I had a deep desire to cleanse my soul an' purge the Red Bull Demon. If I was here, I'd be around those who can't help but see me as the man who does what I did, an' they'd treat me like they always see the Red Bull Demon in me, an' that calls to the Demon, an' makes 'im harder to exorcise, makes it harder to change.”

  “An' so you're a changed man now? A good man?”

  “Not yet a good man, no. But I am a different man now than I was then, for now I try to be a good man.”

  “So the world can breathe a bit easier.”

  Brian smiled, but his cousin didn't smile back.

  “I brought 'em some… things. Will you give 'em to 'em?”

  “I'm not sure you understand how badly you injured that baby boy, Brian. There was much took a long time to heal an' some things that hain't healed yet.”

  “Not healed yet?”

  “He has spells still, Brian, an' there's a weakness to him that lingers, somethin' fragile still. An' Katie, she has the night terrors, not just bad dreams, mind you, but she wakes up screamin', an' if a week goes by without Patrick's spells an' Katie's terrors, that just makes it sadder when they return.”

  Finally Brian's tears began to fall, and Eamon saw them.

  “An' Tommy?”

  “I'm afraid some parish is gonna get a very angry priest.”

  “I was gettin'' a different picture about Patrick, about all of 'em.”

  “If your friends have been tellin' you any different, it must be they know you couldn't stand to hear the true story. Just leave the bag an' I'll show it to Tommy next time he's home, an' we'll decide what to do with it. You can move along an' I'll get word to you if anyone wants to see you.”

  The cousins approached each other.

  “I came because I want you to know I'm goin' to Canada. I got the plan. Well, actually I got a partner who is real smart at makin' out plans an' she has money, too, so we're goin' over for a couple of weeks to check the details and scout for Innish Cove.”

  “She's got money?”

  They met and Brian handed Eamon the flowers and the bag of gifts.

  “Katie was pickin' these when I frightened her. Yeah, she's got money an' she's a real smart lady, the sort who knows how to think two steps ahead.”

  “You're married?”

  “She's asked me, twice.”

  “She's got money, an' she's asked you to marry her, an' you've said no?”

  “I'm ready to take her on as a business partner, but I can't start a new family until I mend this one. One thing I was hopin' to have a chance to say was anytime you change your mind, an' are ready to give me another chance, hell, I ain't ever expectin' forgiveness, Eamon, but maybe just a chance to come around… I know you'd see I've purged the Demon an' I'm not that man anymore.”

  “I hope you'll find peace in Canada, Brian.”

  “I won't be findin' that anywhere but here, we both know that, Cos, so if you'd offer up a blessin' for me trip.”

  “God bless this trip of yours to the wilderness of Canada, and God bless Innish Cove.”

  “Thank you.” Brian gestured to the bag Eamon held at his side. “Can't be any harm comin' from seein' a bag of treasures their da collected in his travels.”

  Eamon opened it and looked inside while Brian described the jumble.

  “It's not really so much. Some posters from fairs an' carnivals from all over the island, an' handbills from plays in Dublin an' Galway… a bottle of pink sand, lovely, yeah, from the beach at Rinvyle Point… two dolls made by travelers who helped me out of some tough times, near Limerick… I found a copy of The Imitation of Christ under a bush by the side of the road one day an' picked that up for Tommy. Tell him I've been readin' it some… An' another book, Hiawatha, a poem about the Indians I'll be livin' with. An' a box with a half dozen flies I tied when material was present… It saddens me to think I don't get to teach the boys to fish the River.”

  “I'll show it to Tommy next time we see him.”

  “An' letters as well, for each of 'em, in the bottom of the bag, an' there's one for you, too, Cos. Apologizin' to each of you, to all of
you. An' I better tell you before you just decide to toss it all on the rubbish pile, there's more than just a few pounds tucked in each envelope.”

  “Tommy'll decide.”

  “Thanks for takin' care of 'em, Cos. At least keep the money for that.”

  “A fair gesture.”

  “I have dreams about 'em. I hain't askin' you to tell 'em that, I just want you to know. I dream I'm still their da, an' I'm sittin' at the table smokin' a pipe an' listenin' to 'em laughin' just outside me window.”

  “You've always had dreams.”

  “If you can tell 'em I came because I love 'em. An' tell Katie she's a lovely lass, an' I'm sorry I frightened her so.”

  Chapter 16

  Dreams of Irish and Indians

  On a bright autumn afternoon, a week after Maureen and Brian had arrived in Kenora, they were passengers in the Norseman bush plane owned and flown by Dutch Acker. They had been following the River's chain of lakes all day, heading north. Maureen started the trip by hiring a different bush pilot each of the first three days, to learn from many, to hear a range of informed opinions. After their first day with Dutch she changed tactics and booked him for the rest of the week. This was the beginning of their second day together.

  Brian's bulk filled the co-pilot's seat and more; Dutch commented he'd never had a larger co-pilot. Maureen sat behind Brian on the plain bench seat of metal frame and canvas that ran along the plane's fuselage. Once they had leveled off after taking off from the municipal dock on Lake of the Woods, Maureen pulled a large leather case from under the bench. She removed and examined the spreading maps and charts and checked her files for notes. The bench and the open floor around her were soon covered with her research. When she found what she was looking for, she unbuckled her seat belt to stand, crouching, with one arm leaning on the back of Brian's chair, the other on the pilot's chair. Then she could look out the windshield to see where in the wilderness Dutch was pointing.

  “It's a pretty spot. The impression your guests would have when they first see that, well, they'd think they've come to the right place, no doubt about it, so I wanted to take a look… Ahh, sorry, there's a big downside, that ridgeline is pretty steep, and closer to the lake than I remembered. There would be lots of weather conditions when I really wouldn't want to be trying to fly in or out.”

  Maureen sat back to check her maps and then returned with one, holding it out in front of the two men, pointing to one of the River's biggest lakes, farther north. “So it's Rainbow Lake next, eh?”

  Dutch said, “Got it”. Brian turned to smile up at Maureen. “You said 'Eh'?”

  “It's contagious, eh?”

  The plane banked slowly and vibrated loudly. As he continued following the main River channel flowing north, Dutch kept his eye on the first dark clouds just beginning to collect at the distant western horizon. He knew a storm front was approaching, but it was forecasted for late in the evening and nothing major was predicted. These clouds were showing up sooner than expected.

  So he wouldn't have to yell over all the sound, Dutch leaned a bit towards Brian who was studying the shoreline. “The cove you've marked on your map is just beyond that point. We won't see it until we get over this ridgeline. It's the only sand beach on Rainbow Lake and probably one of the biggest sand beaches for miles around—that I know of anyway. I know this is farther north than you wanted to go. I don't get jobs that take me this far too often, but I recollect it is lovely.”

  Maureen stood and again crouched between them.

  “I was sittin' back there thinkin', Dutch, that you sure bring a helpful understandin' to what we are doing here.”

  “Happy to help.”

  “And then I was thinkin' that as we build the Great Lodge at Innish Cove, Brian Burke proprietor, we might want to have our own floatplane operation as well. If we get just halfway to our full plans in a couple of years, we would keep a couple of planes like this one plenty busy just attendin' to our own guests and supplies.”

  “That's if your camp's successful. No one's ever tried this far north. We flew over so many great lakes to get here, folks figure you don't need to go this far.”

  “That's just one reason we'll be successful. Bein' so far north makes us even more exclusive, even deeper into the wilderness. We can promise them they will fish all day an' not see any other boats but those with their friends. Lady Girl here has all sorts of schemes to make it more attractive still.”

  “Well Dutch, I'm bringin' it up here now so that if Brian does decide to build a bush plane business, I want you to know we would want to talk about doin' it with you.”

  “I'll take the compliment and leave it at that for now.”

  The plane crested the ridge. Just as Dutch promised, they got a full view of the expansive lake. Across the lake was the cove, half enclosed by a curling finger of rocky point dotted with stunted pine. The golden-brown sands of the beach were hidden behind the pines until they had flown halfway across the lake; there was a small, but brilliantly white stand of birch just above the beach in front of the deep pine green, and there was a rising forested ridge behind it all, green trees stepped up and up and up into the most dramatic ridge crest of rock line they'd seen. Brian began to shake his head, and Maureen leaned on his big shoulder so she could speak softly in his ear.

  “It's beautiful.”

  Brian was quiet; she studied his smile and watched his eyes flash with his excitement. She squeezed his shoulder. “You could build from that point west all way 'round the eastern tip of the cove, an' that's a hundred meters, wouldn't you say, Dutch—from the rocky bluff to that fingertip of forest, a hundred meters?”

  “Close enough.”

  “You could site fifteen cabins in those trees, each one hidden from the others.”

  Brian was still quiet. Dutch stole a glance and saw Brian was not just quiet, but speechless.

  “Like I said, I haven't been this far north very often, a couple of times a year might be about right. But if I remember right, your maps will show your guests could fish three lakes upriver, and two more downriver without ever leaving their boats for a portage. There are nice, wide River channels connecting all of them in a row. And you can see Rainbow Lake is plenty wide—I can take off and land regardless of wind direction.”

  Brian leaned forward in anticipation and Maureen enjoyed the view of the great lake and its many islands, clusters of small ones, a large one out alone.

  “I've seen but one boat since we crossed the second ridgeline north of Lake of the Woods.”

  Dutch was lining up his approach and gave Brian more to think about.

  “What you're looking at is the heart of some of our last great wilderness. Nothing but Ojibway around here, at Grassy Narrows and White Dog Reserve to the southeast and a good number still living off the Reserve back in the bush… There's a Hudson's Bay Post near Grassy Narrows, and that's it.”

  Finally Brian spoke.

  “Let's set her down at the beach.”

  “I'll land in this open stretch here, then taxi into the cove.”

  “Whatever you do, Dutchman, I need to stand on that beach— now.”

  Joe Loon and Simon were scouting a new leg for their trap line for beaver along the Little Drive In channel when the Norseman passed overhead. The course it took suggested a landing near the Shore Where Many Burned For Many Days, so they abandoned their search for new trap sites and turned their canoe to follow the plane's path.

  Just before the plane's sound attracted their attention, Joe Loon caught a glimpse of the western horizon, noticing the first dark clouds gathering. “We will go see who the plane is bringing to our River. We will go now for this storm will be building faster than it first appeared. The winds will be strong.”

  The bush plane landed on Rainbow Lake and turned to taxi towards the cove. Brian leaned forward in his seat, eager to see around the rocky point, and Maureen, who sat back and buckled in for the landing, came forward to her regular position affording her best
view of the cove. Dutch angled his approach so the full expanse of golden sand would be suddenly seen and fully appreciated as they entered the cove.

  “I know this is farther north than any of the camps, and that means the trip in will be more expensive for the guests and for supplies, but I can tell you that you'll not find a beach like this anywhere on the River, and the fishing, I've been told, is the best there is anywhere.”

  Maureen, still crouched between the men, squeezed Brian's arm.

  “When you first saw it, what was it you were thinkin'?”

  “It's a dream comin' true.”

  “It's Innish Cove.”

  “But we're not there yet. We're close, yeah, but we're not there yet.”

  The River's Little Drive In channel opened into Kaputowaganickcok. The wind stirred just a slight chop. First the trees on shore where the channel was narrow hid their view of the western sky but when they cleared them and entered the open water Simon and Joe Loon could see the storm building behind the far west ridges.

  Albert and Mathew, paddling Nigig at a steady pace, were halfway across Kaputowaganickcok when Joe Loon and Simon came up behind them in the outboard-powered freight canoe. When the canoes met, they stopped to talk.

  Whenever a strange white man arrived on the River, they watched. When more than one white man arrived and acted as if they might stay awhile, they watched carefully. That this plane was headed to the cove where Joe Loon's dream was set was reason to act. Albert touched the freight canoe with his paddle to hold them together as they drifted, the breeze stronger than the lake's soft current.

  “This is the first time a white man has come to the sacred place since the Dream.”

  Albert shook his head.

  “The plane passed overhead just as I noticed the dark clouds building.”

  “Simon saw the dark clouds before the plane came.”

  “I have seen this plane at the Hudson Bay Post. Three or four times. The pilot of this plane is the one with snow-white hair. He is always wearing dark glasses so we cannot see his eyes. But he has a laugh that you can trust.”