to go into my near-death experience. I did, however, wonder if she could help me find the culprit. “You know most people around here,” I said. “Know anyone who wears a yellow jacket?”
“Yellow jacket? Why you asking?”
I did my best to come up with a quick answer. “Some guy wearing a yellow jacket almost drove me off the road.”
“Yeah, lots of bad drivers around here.” Hélène laughed hoarsely. “I seen some yellow jackets, but can’t offhand remember who was in them.”
“Could you let me know if you remember?”
“Sure.” She swirled coffee into a china mug with the words Harrods printed in red and handed it to me. It looked as if I was back in her good books to be given the special mug.
“Marie won’t show,” she said.
“She told me she’d be here, she’ll be here. By the way, who’s Charlie?” I asked.
“Charlie Cardinal.”
“What’s he got against me?”
“Simple. You’re a friend of Eric’s.”
“He doesn’t seem to have much regard for Eric, does he?”
Hélène snorted, took a deep drag on her cigarette and pushed it back out in a cloud. “Can’t say as I blame him.”
“What did Eric do to him?”
“Took his job.” Hélène began leafing through a well-thumbed travel magazine that was lying on the counter.
“As band chief?”
“Yup, by rights it’s Charlie’s. Will you look at this?” She held up a picture of some fabulous looking tropical island.
“Maybe we could dye Echo Lake turquoise,” I suggested, then asked, “Was he running against Eric?”
“Yeah, but that don’t mean nothing. Charlie’s our traditional chief. He’s Bear Clan. They been chiefs going way back, eh? Eric’s clan is fisher. Never been a chief of that clan till Eric come along.”
“I’m sure Eric won the election fair and square.” I didn’t know what else to say. I knew how the government had forced the bands into electing chiefs back in the twenties because it believed inherited chief rights was undemocratic. Whether this was good or bad, I didn’t know, I just wanted to avoid a confrontation with Hélène.
She snorted again. “Yup, Eric made a big fuss over Charlie passing out booze for votes. Don’t know why, we always done that. But Eric made such a stink about running an honest election that the band voted him in.”
“Well, from the newness of his big truck, I’d say Charlie’s not hurting.”
Hélène looked up from her magazine and directly into my eyes. “He got lucky. Went away after the election and made some good contacts.”
She continued leafing through the magazine. She snorted every now and then when she turned to a particularly captivating island picture.
I sipped my coffee and watched the time. I was surprised Marie hadn’t yet arrived. Although I was beginning to wonder if she’d forgotten, I decided to wait until six o’clock.
I thought over the implications of Charlie’s shiny new truck in sharp contrast to the rusted-out wrecks of most band members. “Looks like Charlie has some connection to this mine, if he doesn’t want Eric to screw the deal,” I suggested.
Hélène continued turning the pages of her magazine.
“Any idea what it is?” I asked.
She turned another page, stared at the glossy picture, then looked up. She spewed out some smoke, shrugged her shoulders and said, “Charlie only wants the mine ’cause Eric don’t.”
“Maybe he’s working for this mining company, CanacGold?”
Hélène snorted and almost choked on her smoke. “Charlie work for someone, you gotta be kidding.” She pointed to a photograph of a white sandy beach lined with palms and turquoise waves. “Boy, what I wouldn’t give to go to some place like this. You been to one of these places, eh?”
Realizing I wasn’t going to learn any more about Charlie, I told her about my one and only trip to the Caribbean, a lifetime ago, when Gareth was still the man I married. And then he discovered ambition.
When the clock reached six o’clock, I gave up on Marie and left with Hélène’s “I told you so” ringing in my ears. Annoyed that Marie hadn’t bothered to come, I headed home. If she really had something for me, she could come to my place. I wasn’t going to drive around on these miserable roads in the dark looking for her.
Partway home, I changed my mind. It wasn’t like Marie not to live up to her promise. Maybe something had prevented her, like Louis, who might have returned early from his traplines. I headed to her place on the edge of the reserve. I watched for her along the way, but my truck’s lights only lit up the eyes of a raccoon sneaking into the underbrush.
When I reached the lane to her place, I fully expected to see light filtering through the trees. Instead there was only darkness. However, I still thought she was home, just hadn’t turned on a front light.
I turned in and followed the narrow track through the woods until I almost collided with a pile of firewood that some stupid fool, probably Louis, had dumped smack in the middle. I jumped out, picked my way on foot around the logs and stopped at the sight of her darkened house, with not even a glow of light from the back to say she was home.
“Marie! You there?” I shouted.
Silence.
I called again.
I debated going right up to the door but decided against it. The thought of continuing through the rustling night was more than I could manage. I was afraid of the dark. Had been since I was a child. And with today’s near escape still fresh in my mind, I was even more on edge.
I walked back towards the security of the halo behind the woodpile. So I was being a chicken, but it was obvious Marie wasn’t home. And I didn’t have to worry about Louis. No sign of his truck meant he was still miles away in the bush.
Wondering where Marie could be, I finally remembered that tonight was bingo night, Marie’s addiction and the one thing that could make her forget her meeting with me. I thought of driving to the Rec Centre to ensure she was there, but I was annoyed. I’d go home instead.
NINE
I followed the ribbon of light through the dark to Three Deer Point. My annoyance with Marie waxed and waned with each jarring bump along the main road and up the lane to my cottage. One moment I was trying to excuse her no-show with “bingo”, one of the few joys in her hard life. Next moment, I was deciding it was intentional. She was angry with me for pestering her about Aunt Aggie and Whispers Island.
Whatever her reason, I would go back to her place first thing tomorrow morning before she left for work and ensure that this
