Brothers in Arms
by Kai Toh
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Table of Contents parts 1, 2, 3 |
part 2
“Oh man,” Ahanu said, mostly to himself.
“What’s wrong?’
“This gas station is out of gas.”
“Can’t we just go to the next one?” Raith asked.
“The next one doesn’t serve us.”
“Us?”
“You know, aboriginals.”
“Is that even legal?” questioned the Skytree Chief.
“No, but no one will do anything about any complaints.”
“The injustice is staggering. The aboriginals were here first.”
“Yes, but we fought, and we lost, or we agreed to some treaties that were never honoured,” Ahanu summarized.
“Yes, but even so, victors cannot simply do whatever they wish; their conscience bears the weight of our mistreatment and oppression.”
“None of our kind would disagree.”
“I will talk to the person,” Raith said.
“Now, we pull up and ask for gas from my side of the truck. He’ll see me and deny me immediately, even if you can pass for white, which I say with honesty, you cannot.”
“Go to the next station, I will convince them.”
“Okay,” he said, not believing Raith could do anything. Within forty-five minutes, they approached the brightly painted, modern-looking gas station and convenience store.
“Fill the tank please,” Ahanu looked at the muscle-bound, gas attendant, wearing a Toronto Maple Leafs jersey.
“We don’t serve your kind.”
Raith reached over from the passenger side, partially climbing over Ahanu and grabbed the attendant by the front of his shirt and slammed his whole front side violently into the side of the truck. Blood trickled from the station attendant’s nose. Raith then held the man’s throat in a vice-like grip.
“Fill up the tank. It will be worse if I have to ask again,” Raith said coldly and finally let go of the man, pushing him away from the vehicle, causing him to stumble awkwardly and fall backwards. The man staggered to his feet, caught Raith’s steel stare and did what he was told without further argument.
Afterward, the large attendant/owner told Ahanu the cost. Ahanu paid, thanked the man and quickly drove off.
* * *
“I can never go back, not that I ever would,” Ahanu chuckled.
“Likely true.”
“You are a lot stronger and more dangerous than you look.”
“Likely true,” Raith admitted. “You think he’ll report this to his sympathetic OPP buddies?” he asked.
“Would you, if you were him?”
“Admit being manhandled by a small aboriginal half his size?... No.”
“That’s my thinking too, but you never know.”
“I got your back. If they ask,” Ahanu assured him. “I don’t know who you are or where you live.”
“Thank you,” Raith said, and changed the subject. “Are you in line to be chief? That is quite an achievement, assuming there was no nepotism involved.”
“No, I am not in line, I am the head advisor to our chief and am good at that, but others would be better and more likely candidates than myself if Chief Wapachee does not hold that position in the future. I have studied and worked hard all my life and am proud that I’ve come this far. That said, it is only a community of two thousand. In a city or small town, there would be much more competition.”
“I see.”
Ahanu went on to talk about the recent history of the area, focusing on Quebec’s wanting to build a gigantic hydroelectric dam in James Bay encroaching on traditional Cree lands and receiving support from the federal government. He talked about the deal that was signed a couple of years ago, settling the matter, with the Cree receiving exclusive hunting and fishing rights and financial compensation. It would be the mid-1980s before the first phase was done. So far, there were only minor complaints about how things were handled, but every Cree thought it would be much better if things had been left alone to begin with.
“When the white men came from Europe, they brought diseases, which they were immune to. The aboriginals that lived here were decimated. That could very well happen to the Ministikese,” Raith thought aloud.
“It could. It hasn’t yet, from our limited contact with them,” Ahanu observed.
“What about inbreeding?” the dark man wondered.
“I’m quite interested in them and looked it up. They say you need a population of over fifty short-term and 500 long-term to avoid inbreeding problems. They likely have more than fifty, but I do not know about more than 500. I doubt there are that many. They might have some minor problems.”
“You think they would be better off if they lived like the Cree?”
“I’ve given that a lot of thought,” Ahanu said. “Aboriginals are connected to the land. We are also colonized, which means being poor in the white man’s world and second-class citizens. Many of us are miserable. We can’t go back to our traditional ways, and there are no opportunities for us to succeed the white way.
“Well, perhaps if we assimilated fully, but that means death to our traditions and the values of our ancestors. The Ministikese are still pure. They are poor and backwards, but they live the way they have always lived, and the government leaves them alone.
“Other aboriginals throughout Canada cannot say as much. I think I would rather be like the Ministikese, living a hard, authentic life versus living the way we do on the reserve. But this is just my view, and other Cree and aboriginals might think differently.”
Raith concurred: “I must agree. I would rather be them. Inauthenticity eats away at the soul until there is none left.”
Slightly startled, Ahanu amitted, “I never thought of it like that.”
“Fear not,” Raith said, grasping his new friend’s shoulder. “The soul can recover... I know.”
* * *
Hours later. “Oh man,” Ahanu said again.
“What now?”
“That felled tree,” he said. “We can’t go around. Backtracking would delay us for hours.”
“If we can move it, a couple of feet at an angle in the direction we are going, the truck can go on the grass a little and squeeze through.”
“That tree looks like it weighs hundreds of pounds. Maybe we could tow it out of the way with the truck, but I don’t have the gear.”
“I’ve done this type of thing before. It will move, if you help me.”
Ahanu did not think it would work, but said, “Sure.”
Raith pushed and Ahanu pulled on the tree trunk that was two and a half feet in diameter and blocked 9/10ths of the road. On the count of three, Raith pushed and Ahanu pulled and the tree moved a couple of inches. Encouraged by the results, the two persisted until the tree covered only 60% of the road, and their vehicle could pass by traversing the other lane.
Getting back into the car, they ventured forth.
“I think you provided most of the muscle back there,” Ahanu remarked.
“No, no, I could not have done it without you,” Raith said, though he likely could have. If enough cars had stopped and enough large men had helped, it might have taken eight or more people to move the obstruction.
* * *
Ahanu and Raith got to Waskaganish late in the evening. They were assigned the best room of a modest inn, where the innkeeper knew Ahanu. As discussed, Raith would be picked up at 9 a.m. They would then go to the beach and be accompanied by another Cree member. They would then take two two-man canoes from the beach to the island to pick up the missionary prisoner. This method was chosen over motorized boats, which might arouse the suspicions of the natives.
Raith actually slept on a tree branch after transforming into a raven knowing he would sleep better than in the motel bed. He felt out of place in any home not his primitive own, heavily disliking simple comforts and conveniences. He declined the complimentary breakfast. He felt bad that money was being spent to accommodate him and was not being used.
Ahanu arrived on time with a fit-looking friend named Benton and two canoes strapped onto a truck. Raith was not experienced in canoes and would be with Ahanu in one boat while Benton rowed the other. It was an eight-kilometre trip to Ministik.
When they approached, welcoming yellow smoke ascended from the island and, through binoculars, Ahanu could see one Ministik man awaiting them. Ahanu confirmed it was the one who spoke a bit of Cree. Upon reaching the shore, all three were invited to meet with Chief Waka.
The island had a narrow beach with rocky coasts sandwiching it on both sides. The trees were tall, and the island was heavily forested. Following a single-person path that was no more than a hiking trail, they made their way inland to a large circular structure. The building was roughly 40 feet wide, and the peak of the tilted roof was 20 feet high. The main entrance was guarded, but there were no other doors or windows.
The floor was dirt but meticulously cleared of debris. There were no chairs; everyone sat with their knees on the ground, sitting on their ankles, which looked quite uncomfortable if assumed for long periods. There were low tables of local fare, mainly variants of fish dishes and wild boar. Wooden cups soon to be filled with wine were next to each setting. The guarded missionary sat next to the Chief. There were empty spaces nearby, presumably for Raith and Ahanu. Benton would not be sitting at the head table.
Raith and Ahanu were led to the missionary. “Are you okay?” Ahanu asked.
“I am fine. They’ve been treating me well, surprisingly,” the handsome, muscular, young missionary said.
“Likely much better than you deserve,” Raith said sternly.
Lleyton, the missionary, looked down ashamedly.
Ahanu explained: “We have gone to much trouble to secure your release, including finding and convincing the Chief of the Skytrees, Raith here, who lives over a thousand kilometres away, to aid us, as requested by Chief Waka.”
Lleyton apologized, “I am sorry. I thought I would simply be killed. I am forever in your debt.”
“Yes, you are,” said Raith, “and very lucky to even be alive despite your foolishness.”
“I’ve had a lot of time to think things over, what I tried to do, and I can see... the fault in such thinking.”
“I hope that sentiment is authentic,” Raith said. “Or further misfortune will certainly be your fate in the future.”
“It is. I’ve changed,” the missionary admitted. “I did it for all the wrong reasons but mainly for fame, to be the first to do it, and if I actually did it, I would be admired and respected. But I see now that is misguided.”
“Good,” Ahanu encouraged, trying to get Raith not to be so hypercritical about the young man.
“Fame is the wrong reason. Their conversion being God’s plan should be the only reason,” the missionary deadpanned.
Raith stared at him coldly and intently.
Lleyton froze by the surprise of such a reaction and then fear uncontrollably overcame him. “I-I-I w-was kidding. It as a joke, honest. L-let them be. It was w-wrong to try to convert them.”
“Never forget that,” Raith said, his tone most unfriendly.
“Yes, sir. The joke was in poor taste,” Lleyton said. “I profusely apologize for my actions and am so grateful that you are helping me in this terrible situation that I put myself in. I only have myself to blame.”
Raith stared at him to see if he could detect whether the young man was saying these things to placate him or if he truly believed it. He could not tell and simply nodded slightly.
“Has the outside world heard of what I have done?” the missionary asked Ahanu. “Am I in the news?”
“Do you wish to be?” Raith interjected, genuinely curious.
“No, of course not. I just do not want to bring shame and worry upon my family and community. If no one knows, maybe no one has to know, and I can make amends,” Lleyton said.
“No one besides the Cree in our area know. The QPP does not know,” Ahanu explained. “Quebec has their own police force.”
“Good. That’s good,” said the missionary.
“But don’t you want any attention good or bad, as long as your name is out there and you are being noticed?” asked Raith, cynically.
“I thought I wanted that, but no longer. I’ve had a change of heart,” Lleyton explained. “I know you don’t believe me. You don’t know me, but you can imagine the personality of a person who would do this, and you would question, rightfully so, if such a person would change. You would be skeptical that they have. If there is an opportunity for me to show you, I will.”
What he said did make sense, and Raith gave him the benefit of doubt, for now.
They were about to talk more, but the Chief walked in from the entrance with much traditional ceremony. Both Raith and Lleyton looked to Ahanu to guide them with the correct custom. Ahanu motioned to them simply to keep sitting. After an agonizingly slow walk to the head of the table, he, too, sat down, knees to the ground, sitting on his heels.
Copyright © 2025 by Kai Toh
