Liar (6 page)

Sam’s mother, Anita, and Sam’s sister, May with husband and two children would be arriving tomorrow to supervise the preparations for the Thunder Ceremony. Supposedly there would be about 600 invited guests, mainly Grimshaws and with a few white villagers. Most celebrations took place at the town’s gymnasium because it was the only place big enough to hold that many people.

China was having trouble wrapping her head around such a huge event and was thankful that other than baking a few apple pies, and housing Sam’s relatives, she had nothing to do other than show up and look good. She cleaned the house obsessively, and bought tons of groceries, and fretted over who would sleep where. It would be a tight squeeze. Thank God she’d had the sense to ask May to bring sleeping bags for her two boys, since she didn’t have enough sheets to cover them all.

China’s dream was to live in a big house with several bedrooms and bathrooms so that she wouldn't be inconvenienced, her privacy impinged upon, the noise of extra, unfamiliar, energies keeping her awake. The maids would do the cleaning, prepare the meals, be the maintenance people, as she socialized and enjoyed her guests in a leisurely fashion. Then she wouldn't have to lie when she said: "We'd be delighted to have you. It's no trouble at all."

Sam spent the whole night flopping like a fish-out-of-water in bed and China felt like tangled seaweed.

“Sam? What’s going on with you? Are you worried about the Thunder Ceremony?”

“My mother insists on doing this now, and I think it’s too soon. She hasn’t lived here for forty years and she pretends to know how the people feel. I think she’s trying to atone for her past and earn my respect by making me Chief.”

“Well, tell Anita. Tell her you’re not ready. Surely she’ll understand.”

“I told her already but she’s not listening to what I want. I don’t want it unless I earn it. This is not fun. It doesn’t feel good. She makes me want to run away. She’s shoving something down my throat that I don’t want on her terms. I agree to it but only if the family agrees, and when I’m ready. Exactly what am I going to be Chief of?”

“Sam, call a family meeting and put it to a vote.”

“We did that two years ago,” said Sam impatiently. “Granny named me as clan leader. My cousin, Dan Black, was the only one who dissented.”

“Does he have a claim?”

“I guess so, on his father’s side. He used to be a drunk but he quit a few years ago. Anyway that’s not the point. The Chief has to be named by the head of the family and that’s Granny and she named me. She wants someone with an education who knows how to deal with the white world.”

“Well, that was two years ago. Things change. Maybe another meeting is needed and if the answer is no, or let’s wait a while, holler at your mother loud enough so that she can hear. What are you afraid of? You’re a lot bigger than she is. She can’t do it without your consent. If you don’t say a loud NO, she’ll just think that you’re being nervous. Jesus, Sam, this is important. Your mother has thousands of dollars worth of gifts lying around this house. Stop it now before her investment is ruined.”

“Maybe you’re right,” said Sam with resignation. “I’ll talk to her today.”

~ ~

Anita, May and Jim, and the boys had all travelled overnight on the ferry and arrived at Sam and China’s at 7:30 am. Sam helped them unload the two cars and after eating the hearty breakfast China had prepared, they all went over to Granny and Pop’s house to pay their respects. China took advantage of the brief respite to write a letter to Sarah. They called each other frequently but phone conversations were not the same as letter conversations.

Oct. 1/96

Dearest Sarah,

Anita arrived with several twenty-pound bags of flour, onions and potatoes. I guess she heard me grumbling about the lack of chicken on this island. She brought five whole chickens and forty chicken legs. No wonder I can’t lose any weight. The island culture is based on collecting food: shooting it; fishing for it; foraging for it; smoking, jarring and canning it; talking about it, selling it and eating it. Food is the social structure and entertainment on Grimshaw Island.

I can barely move with all the gifts stacked up for the Thunder Ceremony. Every one of the 600 guests receives a gift, and they’re not dollar store items. Anita has spent a fortune on sheets, towels, dishes, glasses - all kinds of goodies. Bear has been carving paddles as special gifts for the Chiefs of each clan. It’s like a wedding where the bride gives out gifts instead of receiving them. Sam would prefer to become Chief next year, after he’s had a chance to settle in. There’s been some rumblings in the village that not everyone in the family is pleased with the idea of Sam as Chief. After all, he’s been away a long time. Anita lives in Halifax and may not be entirely aware of all that goes on here. However, she’s a runaway train and Sam doesn’t have the guts to tell her NO - NOT YET. He says no to me and then in a conversation with her he says, “Don’t you think we should wait a few months?” As if those wimpy words would stop a train. I feel a disaster brewing but it’s not my place to interfere with ancient cultural traditions that I know nothing about.

I don’t know the complicated history of Sam and his family and his people, however I’m learning. These people seem to have the Asian philosophy of never saying no. Always say yes and those foolish white people will eventually figure it out when you don’t show up, or forget, or get sick, or whatever. What I haven’t yet figured out is, do they use this method with their own kind? Is there a hidden signal, a shift of the eyes, that whitey can’t see, that indicates a real yes, instead of a no-yes? Or do they all run around saying yes and leave it to you to figure out later that the yes was really a yes-no? And that’s OK because sometimes you’ll get it right and won’t that be a nice surprise. Are they addicted to guessing games? My direct approach has probably offended a lot of people. Sam doesn’t seem to be offended. He seems very good at deflecting, or evading my need for clarity, especially when we discuss money matters. He doesn’t seem to have quite the amount of money he appeared to have. Travelling to and from this island is very expensive and I guess this Thunder Ceremony has eaten up a lot of his savings, and Anita’s. I’ll write again soon when I’m not so frazzled.

Love, China.

~ ~

The preparations for the Thunder Ceremony soon reached a thunder pitch. Marisa, a talented seamstress, was making the special Chief’s blanket that would be draped over Sam’s shoulders by his grandmother. His grandfather would then place the Chief’s head-dress on his head and Sam would do the Thunder Dance. China assumed that Sam had been practicing the dance but she never saw him do it and he never mentioned it. They had almost not spoken in the past three days except during mealtime when everyone spoke at once and Sam and May swapped stories and lies. They had very different versions of their childhoods.

When Anita gave up alcohol, she expected Sam’s father, George Kelly, a white man and a longshoreman, to also give it up. He had other notions and decided that the company of rum was preferable to the nagging presence of Anita. So she took May with her and moved from Halifax to Edmonton with her new boyfriend. She left Sam with his father who would ship Sam over to Grimshaw Island to stay with his grandparents during holidays, or when he went on one of his week-long binges. Anita occasionally returned with May to spend the summer months on Grimshaw Island but her visits were uncomfortable. She didn’t get along with her parents and Sam’s relationship with his mother was wary to say the least. Anita and May eventually moved back to Halifax, but by then Sam was a teenager, well used to taking care of himself and his rum-rampaging father. Well used to switching between the white world and the aboriginal world and never feeling comfortable in either one.

China really liked May, who was a delicate, pretty, version of Sam. Her husband Jim and her two boys spent a lot of time fishing and staying out of the way of the preparations. China and May weren’t so lucky. Their time was spent in the kitchen that Anita had commandeered. They took orders from Anita and fell into bed every night praying for deliverance.

“Mom,” said May. “I’m sick of peeling apples. My fingers are about to fall off. Why don’t we use the apple filling that everyone else uses?”

“Because everyone else’s pies aren’t as good as mine.”

“May I ask why we’re making so many pies?” asked China. “At this rate every person will have at least one whole pie to consume.”

“China, we don’t eat the pies, we take them home,” said May grinning.

“It’s a tradition called “guulkiikt,” explained Anita. “There’s such an abundance of food that everyone has to take some home. It shows that the giver of the feast is a wealthy person.”

“Oh,” said China, feeling once again chastened by tradition.

“I should get my Mom to send me a few cases of Hard Tack. We could give each guest a cake to take home.”

“Good idea,” said Anita.

Had China’s joke been taken seriously? She was unsure and looked at May who continued peeling apples. Was that a slight twitch at the edge of May’s mouth, China wondered? At the end of the day China took a shower to get the flour out of her hair and her body orifices. She was totally unresponsive when Sam climbed into bed.

“You smell like apple pie,” sniffed Sam appreciatively.

China groaned and lay like a mattress under Sam’s caresses.

“What’s wrong with you?” asked Sam.

“Fifty apple pies.”

“This Ceremony is killing my sex life,” complained Sam as he thrust his way into China’s limp, apple-smelling body.

“At least you have a sex life. Mine has been crushed beneath a mountain of apple peels.”

“My apples are very ripe and about to burst,” puffed Sam as he pumped faster and faster. “Could you fake it a little? Give a guy a little encouragement?”

China shook with weak laughter and the movement was all the encouragement Sam needed to burst his apples.

~ ~

The next day China and May escaped for tea at Granny’s house. May fussed over Granny, bringing her tea and cookies, while Pop snored quietly on the couch. Marisa sat at the kitchen table sewing Sam’s blanket. It was made of heavy felt and decorated with mother of pearl buttons and bits of shell. It seemed to China that the blanket needed a lot more work before it was completed, but no one else seemed to worry, least of all, Marisa.

“Marisa,” said China. “I’ll help you sew on the buttons if you want.”

“Don’t worry, China, it’ll be done in time,” answered Marisa.

Sam’s head-dress had been ordered from a carver in Halifax but for some reason it hadn’t yet arrived and the carver had returned none of Anita’s frantic phone calls. Finally, one old Chief in the village offered his museum quality head-dress, and Marisa was also making repairs to that, adding more goose down and feathers.

Later that day, China and May finished setting the table for supper and wondered why Sam wasn’t home. Jim, May’s husband, took the plates out of the oven.

“It’s not like Sam to miss a meal,” said Jim.

“Maybe he’s still at the office,” said Anita, dishing up the deer stew.

“I called the office and there was no answer,” said China.

May put plates in front of her sons, Ray and Simon, and slapped hands when they reached for their forks.

“Wait until everyone is seated,” she ordered.

“Is Uncle Sam coming soon?” asked Simon hungrily.

“We’re not waiting for him,” said China.

Just then Sam opened the kitchen door and stood there looking like he’d been run over by a truck in a sand storm.

“What happened to you?” asked Jim.

“I had a little car trouble,” said Sam brushing sand all over the floor.

“Sam, get outside and get those shoes off!” ordered China.

Sam stood outside on the porch and the family watched gleefully as China beat Sam with the broom.

“Sam, why are you always wearing your good jacket when you get into trouble?” asked China angrily. “Where were you?”

“Well, I decided to take a run on the beach.”

“You? Run?” queried May.

“I took the caddy for a run on the beach but she kind of sunk in the sand.”

“Sam, you’re losing it,” said Jim. “That caddy weighs a ton.”

“I had to get Bear to pull me out.”

“Looks like he pulled the caddy over you,” said Anita sarcastically.

Ray and Simon totally lost the laughter they’d been trying to politely stifle.

“Sam, you’ve been a city boy for too long. You need Indian re-training,” giggled May.

“Get your sandy arse in there and eat your dinner,” scolded China, wacking Sam on his bum with the broom.

Sam joined in the general laughter with good nature. One more story to tell around the campfire.

~ ~

Two days later all was ready for the Thunder Ceremony. The community hall was crammed with about 600 villagers and the chatter was deafening. China sat down at the head table and looked around for Sam. She saw him near the door with Marisa and Anita, and they didn’t look very happy. Sam sat next to China and whispered in her ear.

“The head-dress has been stolen.”

“Oh, Sam, that’s awful! What are you going to do?”

“Right now, I can do nothing.”

“Jesus, Sam, that head-dress was an artifact! How could Marisa have been so careless?”

“It was probably her son who stole it. The two of them have been bleeding my grandparents dry for years.”

Once again China marveled at the Grimshaw way of ignoring everything. The grandparents, blind, deaf and crippled, needed care and they sort of adopted Marisa who needed a house and things to steal to support her drinking habit and the worse habits of her son. It was an arrangement everyone seemed pleased with since neither Sam nor his mother showed any inclination of taking care of them. It was a matter of pride in the native community that the old ones were highly respected and that the family took care of them instead of a nursing home. China was dubious of the care that a lot of the old people received.

Bear was the Master of Ceremonies and he welcomed the Chiefs of the various clans. They didn’t all attend but that was normal. There were sometimes bitter rivalries between the clans and in the old days, disagreements often ended in death. Nowadays the trouble that couldn’t be arbitrated by the Band Council, or circle sentencing, was soon resolved by the RCMP and white man’s law.