by Dawn Dumont
They lost their first game and clawed their way to a minor victory in the second. Nellie had spent the entire last inning cheering from third base because the guys had stopped throwing to her. Everett wished she would shut up already. She ran up to him as he walked to the dugout and put her arm around his waist so that they had to do that awkward huggy walk.
He slapped hands with the rest of the players. He’d brought in a few of his construction friends and Taz had asked some guys from his work to play as well. They were a good group, someone had thoughtfully remembered to bring beer and he cracked one and turned to watch as Julie walked all the way in from the outfield.
“Fucking hot out there,” she said, her face had a mist of sweat on it. Her skin had already turned brown after one day in the sun like a real Indian. It made her teeth shinier and her hair blacker. Well, not all the way black, he saw shades of red in it.
He handed her his beer wordlessly. She took a long sip and thanked him with a smile. Taz curled his arm around her and ruined the moment. He whispered something in her ear that made her laugh.
They decided to go to KFC for lunch. The team arranged itself in booths. Nellie sat next to Julie, Everett and Taz sat across from them. Everett kept leaning over Taz to talk to Jamie and Eddie, two guys from Everett’s site who had all kinds of funny stories. Jamie was in the middle of one about some woman he’d met over one of those phone dating lines and when he showed up at her house, it turned out she was in a wheelchair.
“Thought something was up when I saw the ramp, the door opened and I thought well what the hell, a pussy’s a pussy, right?”
Everett felt rather than saw Nellie stiffen up but ignored it. He should have known that wouldn’t work.
“A disabled person is still a person,” she said loudly.
“Nobody’s judging, he still fucked her,” Taz replied.
Everett chuckled.
“Don’t laugh.” Nellie’s eyes narrowed like a snake.
Don’t be this way, Everett would say under his breath if she was next to him. But she was too far away from him so he gave her a look instead.
“And, don’t look at me like that. It’s not right to laugh at disabled people. Any one of us could become disabled and then would you think it was so funny?”
“If I was disabled,” Everett said solemnly, “I’d be honoured if Jamie wanted to bone me.”
“And I would!” Jamie yelled from his table.
Julie giggled so the guys started to pile on with their jokes. Everett could see that Nellie was fighting her natural instinct to create a scene. She must have been tired from scrambling around under the hot sun because she switched her focus to her chicken and fries and kept her opinions to herself.
“How are you all friends?” asked Jamie. “You from the same reserve?”
“We three grew up on Stone Man’s,” Julie pointed at Everett and Nellie and herself.
“It’s called Asinîy Napew First Nation now,” Nellie butted in.
Julie pointed with her lips at Taz. “And this one is from way up north. That’s why he’s got those Dene eyes.”
“And that backwards sounding Cree accent,” Nellie added.
Everett could never figure out why Nellie needed to poke that sleeping dog.
“Yup, I’m a real Indian. Not a fake-ass, mostly monias Indian, like these ones. Crow’s Nest First Nation.” Taz proclaimed.
“Pelican Lake,” Jamie said and he and Taz punched fists.
“That’s cool, you guys stayed friends your whole lives,” Jamie added, “that’s how it is on my rez too.”
Nellie nodded, “Yup we’ve been friends since we were kids.”
Everett wondered if you could be friends with someone you never talked to. He remembered seeing Nellie at the front of the class in elementary school, a chubby kid with a squeaky voice, hand always in the air, ready to answer every question or add something to what the teacher said. He didn’t pay attention too much, there was always some action going at the back of the class. And, by the time he got to junior high, he was already in those slow learner classes. Of course he knew Julie, his cousins used to tease him about her. He remembered how she was so small for so long, nobody ever would have thought that she’d sprout such long legs.
“We called Jules here, the Shrimp,” he said, smiling at the memory of the tiny girl with the big smile.
“I don’t remember that,” Nellie interjected.
“Ha! As if! My friends and I used to call Everett Shy-baby,” Julie grinned back. “’Cause he would write me love notes and leave them in my pocket. Then when I tried to talk to him, he would run away.”
“That wasn’t me.” Everett could feel his face getting red.
“And even if I wasn’t in your class, you would always give me a valentine. They were real cute homemade ones.”
Everett remembered going to his uncle and asking him how to spell the words, “Julie” and “forever.” But he could never tell them that. “Ch, as if. I don’t remember that.”
“Yeah, you’re right, I’m probably mistaken, must have been a different Everett Kaiswatim.” Julie winked at him.
“I remember my schoolyard boyfriend,” Nellie said.
“Who, the janitor?” Taz joked.
Nellie’s mouth tightened as everyone laughed and Everett felt bad for her. He still laughed though.
Outside in the parking lot, they waited near the car as Taz smoked and talked to his friends. Everett knew the guys but didn’t feel like talking to them. All they ever did was shit talk the chiefs down at the Assembly — sounded like jealousy to him. And when they weren’t talking about that they were talking about the shit they were buying. Fuckers seem to have money to burn for doing nothing in Everett’s opinion. If he took all the shifts he was offered at work, if he stepped to being foreman like his boss wanted him to, he could be making big money too — and his money would be clean — none of this government money. But he didn’t see the point. He made enough money to get by, what else did he need?
Their last game was a tough one. The other team was so strong even their girls could play well. One of them, a real solid built chick, she even hit a home run.
In the dugout, Nellie said, “Someday I’ll do that.”
Everett wanted to explain to her that girls like that played all the time, that you couldn’t just get that good at twenty-five but Nellie would call him negative and unsupportive so he didn’t say anything.
The next inning, Everett hit a two-run homer and caught them up. Then Taz surprised everyone by hitting another one directly after. Everett watched Julie hug him as he headed back to the bench.
“Next game’s at 8:00 AM,” Everett told the team as they were packing up and everyone groaned.
“I’ll bring coffee! Just show up!” Nellie pleaded. “If we don’t have enough players, we forfeit — which is the same as losing!”
They know that Nellie.
They were the last to leave because they had to make sure all the equipment Nellie rented was there. Then they piled into her car. On the way home, Taz said there was a cabaret on that night.
“I don’t know,” Nellie said, “I have a paper to write and we have the game tomorrow.”
“We’re gonna head over, I hear the band is good,” Julie said. “Plus Taz’s friends will be there.”
Count me out then, Everett thought. He remembered a huge spliff he had in his other jacket pocket and thought about how much fun he’d have smoking it on the deck of his house.
“I can buy your tickets,” Taz said.
Everett hated the way Taz always assumed he was broke. “I have money. I just don’t wanna go.”
“Okay, fine, who gives a fuck.”
It was a long drive home so Nellie suggested a game. Everett figured that it was something she made up because it didn’t make any sense to him. Nellie asked all these “what if” questions and they answered them. “What if . . . you had all the money in the world?” Questions that eight year olds wou
ld ask each other. He didn’t mind playing along because Taz pulled out a blunt he’d scored off his friends and passed it around.
“What if . . . you could change places with anyone in the world — who would it be?”
Everett knew this one right away. “That Hugh guy, the one that owns all those strippers.”
“Hugh Hefner, owner of Playboy,” Taz corrected him.
“Yeah, that guy. He’s got the fucking life.”
“That’s charming,” Nellie said, “Enjoy your gonorrhoea.”
“I would test the girls first,” Everett said knowing that he wouldn’t.
“Anyone else?”
“I don’t want to be anyone else,” Taz said. Everett looked at him in the rear-view mirror, his arm around Julie’s shoulder. God, he was such an asshole.
“That’s a good answer,” Nellie said. “I wish I could say that. But I would want to be Whitney Houston because she’s the best singer in the world and she’s got her head on straight. And, she and Bobby Brown make such a cute couple.”
Everett wondered for a second if Nellie was secretly into black guys.
“Are you into black guys?” He asked.
She laughed so hard she spit all over the steering wheel. “Threatened, are we?”
She had gone down to Mexico. Maybe she’d been hooking up with black guys down there. Were there even black people in Mexico? He’d always meant to check where Mexico was on the map but never got around to it.
“Julie, you haven’t said. Who would you be?” Nellie asked when she straightened herself up.
Julie said a name but it got lost in the breeze flowing through the car.
“What’s that?” Nellie yelled.
“She said Princess Di.” Taz said. There was never any chance of that guy not being heard.
Everett looked back at Julie and smiled. He could see her as a Princess, wearing fancy things and dancing in big rooms. He could see her visiting sick kids and doing all that charity work that rich people did because they had too much time on their hands.
“Why her?” Nellie yelled back.
Julie leaned forward between the seats. “She’s got nice clothes and she gets to travel all over the world. And her kids. She’s got two cute little boys.”
Taz laughed. “She’s Princess Di and you’re Princess High.” Julie elbowed him and Everett could see that her feelings were hurt.
That guy had a way of ruining every moment.
Nellie dropped off Taz and Julie at their place and then parked in front of Everett’s house. Everett got out and heard her car door open after he opened his. I guess she’s staying.
They had sex. Afterwards Everett pretended to fall asleep so that she would leave. She kissed his forehead as she left. He heard her moving through the house, muttering about research papers and what was the point when no one read them except for bored grad students.
Once she was gone, he headed to the kitchen. He turned on the radio and raided the fridge. He was frying up a bacon and egg sandwich when he heard the news come on. It was announced twice: Princess Di was dead. Car accident.
He left the sandwich in the kitchen and headed out to his back patio. He could feel people being sad. He lit up his joint and took a couple long drags. He thought a prayer in his head that he heard his mom say once, “May your spirit find its way home.” And that was that.
About half an hour later, Taz walked in with a twenty-four of beer jangling under his arm. Everett glanced up and could see bruises forming on Taz’s face.
“I got jumped.”
“I can see that.”
Julie walked in and shut the door behind her. She looked tired.
“Who was it?” Everett asked.
“Some guys. Being all territorial and shit. Would’ve helped if you’d been there.”
Everett could smell a lie. “What did you do?”
“You got ice?” Taz headed for the kitchen.
Everett looked at Julie, she had curled herself up on the couch.
“What’s it about?” he asked in a low voice.
“Taz was telling people that one of the chief candidates raped a girl and his cousins heard about it.”
“Was it true?”
Julie shrugged and picked at a piece of lint on her T-shirt.
“Politics, fucking awesome.” Everett got up and turned off the TV. He turned on his cassette player perched just above and turned on some music, old school AC/DC, all the way from the 70s. Music that was a little bit older than him.
Taz came back into the room with a pack of hotdogs held to his face. “You should’ve been there,” he said over the music.
“Every man’s gotta get a lickin’ now and then. Keeps him honest,” Everett laughed, and took the remainder of his joint out of his pocket and sat back down.
“Have a beer,” Taz said.
“Nah, not feeling it.”
“Suit yourself, I’m gonna get shitfaced.”
Everett looked at Julie. “Did you hear?”
She nodded.
“Fucking crazy man,” Taz said. “We were just talking about her today.”
The phone rang in the other room but Everett was too lazy to get up. He could feel a pain in his calves that told him maybe he was getting old after all.
Taz laid down, with his head on Julie’s lap. She petted him like a dog.
Everett thoughts went back to that pretty lady and how he’d been seeing pictures of her since he was kid, he thought about her kids and how they wouldn’t have a mom now and he felt bad for them. Then he said under the cover of the music, “Nobody ever gets what they want,” and pushed them out of his head.
Two Years Less a Day
January 2000
THE ROOM WAS LARGE which Julie liked. Everything else she hated. The blinds on the tiny windows were dirty and hanging off sideways. The desk was littered with paper. Small yellow Post-its, white forms, notebooks, and file folders were scattered everywhere. Everything had a fur of dust covering it. A sticky determined dust that would gather on your fingers if you dared to disturb it. She felt like attacking the room with a mop and a couple gallons of javex.
Julie heard a plop. It came from the big, fat, wine-coloured jacket hanging on the coat rack that was still wet from the snow and radiating cold. There was a brown puddle around the base. Julie imagined someone slipping in it and breaking their neck. She noticed her thoughts taking these dark turns these days but didn’t have the energy to rein them in.
Across from her was a woman, a short-ass, which was what Julie called anyone who was round and short. The woman had dyed her hair a beige blonde, “the colour of baked bannock,” is how Julie would have described it to Nellie. The ends of her hair were still damp from the snow outside.
When she’d walked in, the woman had been at her desk, turning on her computer with one hand, taking her jacket off with the other — she looked frazzled as shit which didn’t give Julie much confidence.
The way you do one thing is the way you do everything. Julie had heard that somewhere, probably from Nellie.
“Julie Papaquash?”
“Yes, I came to talk.”
The woman held up her hand. “First, I need to read your file.”
“But — ”
“Please sit down.”
Julie felt like standing but she’d already learned that requests were demands and demands were orders and any disobeying made the guards come running.
Julie was thirsty. The building was dusty wherever she went and no matter how much water she drank, it was never enough. Before she went to bed, she filled a cup from the sink next to the bunk bed and drank from it over and over again while her roommate, Shells, watched, got bored and turned over.
“So where do we start Julie?” The woman looked her over and Julie felt her unwashed, greasy hair sticking to her head, felt that pimple that was beginning inside her nose and red heat climbing from her chest up her neck to her cheeks. In the real world, this conversation would be like trying
to ask a friend to lend you money after you’d run over their dog.
“I need to get out of here.” Ten days ago she had walked into this shithole and her heart immediately started beating faster. That feeling was only getting worse. Every morning she woke up feeling like she would start screaming and not stop. She stayed away from windows because she wanted to smash them with her fist and force her way through. She didn’t tell this woman that though, that would be a one-way road to seg.
“I don’t work on that sort of thing. That’s a legal matter.” The words slid out of the woman’s mouth, the way people said, “Fries with that.”
Julie felt the wind knocked out of her like that time she’d slipped on the ice in front of her building. She was in the air long enough to know that when she came back to earth, it was gonna hurt like a bitch. She was right.
The woman went on, “As a caseworker, my job is about making your stay productive. I’m about making use of your time. None of us have very much of it you know. Goes by in a flash.” She attempted to snap her fingers, but they were soft and pudgy and only made a soft “swoosh” sound.
Time does fly — unless you spent the night before staring at a crack in the ceiling next to a picture of a penis exploding — then the seconds seem to be stretching on like years. Julie swallowed her anger along with the bile she felt rising up her throat.
She took a deep breath and exhaled noisily. Nellie blew up all the time at salespeople, waitresses, Everett, but they were small fires, easily contained. Everett just got mad, punched people and then was done — his anger dumped out like garbage. With Taz, anger was as natural as breathing. You could see it in his posture, corded through his muscles. But Julie never got mad, never raised her voice, never raised a hand to anyone.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you’re very pretty.”
Julie stared at her. Am I allowed to mind anything?
“I’m sure you hear that a lot.” The woman put her pen in her mouth and slipped it in and out a few times, making it sopping wet with her spit. “What program would you like to take? We have openings in GED.”
