“Three point five kilowatt?”
“Yeah. The other one was seven, but way more expensive. This one’s supposed to be economic and quiet and withstand up to minus forty.”
They struggled and swore, but within a few minutes they had moved the generator to the back of the trailers. They set it on the raised wooden platform by the propane generator it was going to replace.
When they got back inside, Amaruq stood behind the bar counter, fixing himself a cocktail of dark drinks. Kiawak refilled his mug from the coffee machine before sitting on one of the stools next to Amaruq.
“You know you’ll have to pay for that someday,” Joe smirked at Amaruq. His tone sounded like a warning that Joe was going to take payment in kind. In fact, Joe could easily pounce on the feeble Amaruq, who hardly weighted one hundred and fifty pounds in his five-foot frame.
“Someday, someday, everyone has got to pay,” Amaruq chanted in a weak voice that had a grouchy pitch while shaking both his head and his drink. “How’s my good friend Kiawak?”
Joe squeezed behind them to get to the stove and check on the pork chops, his beer belly almost knocking over a teakettle.
Kiawak shook Amaruq’s small, calloused hand. “Doing great, really great. How’s the old wolf?”
Amaruq smiled. “Hanging in there.”
“How’s Nina and the baby?”
“In perfect health. And the proud godfather is drinking to Gabriel’s long life.” He took a sip of his brew then smacked his lips in satisfaction.
“That’s his third drink today,” Joe informed Kiawak. “In case you’re wondering.”
“Thanks for flipping my pork chops. They would have burned if I weren’t here,” Amaruq quipped.
“If you weren’t here mooching off us, we could afford a real cook.” Joe lined up four plates and hurried to take them to the waiting patrons.
“All this howling is making me miserable,” Amaruq complained to Kiawak.
“Don’t mind Joe. He’s just worried about this place. I came back from the Bay, and we had to pop three thousand for a new generator.”
Amaruq’s eyes registered the dollar amount, and he seemed to ponder it. Kiawak’s glance followed Joe as he fluttered between the tables, receiving more food orders. Two new patrons had walked in while they were moving the generator. Kiawak recognized them as Nicholas and Brian, two researchers working for the mining company. They showed up every year to monitor the contamination levels in the town site.
“So, you were at the Bay this morning?” Amaruq asked. “Why didn’t you let me take you there?”
Kiawak snorted. “Don’t you remember what happened the last time you drove a truck?”
Amaruq sighed. “Not fair. That was a long time ago, there was a snowstorm, and I was in a semi—”
“You went through the freaking ice, old wolf, taking with you the rig and a ton of dynamite.”
“The herd… those damn caribous. I keep telling everyone. I was trying to avoid crashing into the caribou herd. That’s why I lost control.”
Kiawak shrugged. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just can’t afford to lose my truck. And you need to see an eye doctor.”
“My eyes are fine. I told you it was the caribous. But no one trusts me anymore.”
Joe returned to the bar and began pouring beer from the tap into three large jugs. “Nick and Brian are here.”
“Yeah, I saw them. Why are they early?”
“Something about a potential waste spill from one of the tailing ponds.”
“Oh, crap,” Amaruq whined and fired an angry stare at the two researches. Sitting at the far end of the trailer, they could not see his reaction.
“Keep it down, old wolf. Don’t you start trouble now.”
Amaruq raised his hands in resignation.
“There hasn’t been a leak since the mine was sealed off. That’s why these guys are here, to make sure it stays that way,” Kiawak said.
“I get it.” Amaruq turned around to face Kiawak and offered him a big grin. “Trouble’s bad for business. By the way, how’s the other business?”
Amaruq pointed his index finger above Kiawak’s head at two framed photographs hanging on the wall. The first one showed a proud Kiawak in the Ranger’s uniform, posing in front of the entrance to the Nanisivik port with the Canadian Minister of National Defence. The second was a shot of Kiawak’s Rangers Patrol Group, thirty-three members in all, with the minister in their midst.
“You know what’s missing there?” Amaruq’s shaky hand kept stabbing the air as if he were trying to reach for the photographs.
“You?” asked Joe.
“No.” Amaruq laughed. “Our Queen.”
“Huh?” Kiawak asked.
“Your picture with the Queen. It would be nice if you had a picture of you and Her Majesty.”
Joe laughed. The only time he agreed with Amaruq was when the old man threw out one of his punch lines.
“The Defence Minister shows up only in August, the warmest month around here,” Amaruq said, “I don’t know how we can fire up this place much hotter for Her Majesty.”
He lifted his voice in mock solemnity, and they all laughed aloud, attracting curious stares from the closest tables.
“Excuse me, but I need to refill my drink. From home.” Amaruq lifted his glass one last time. A few drops trickled over his lips. He zipped up his jacket and hobbled out of the trailer.
“Talk to you later,” Kiawak said.
Joe served his thirsty customers while Kiawak finished his coffee. He retreated to his office. It was slightly larger than a den, with a small foldable desk, two plastic shelves full of books and magazines, a file cabinet, and an office chair. He began reading the Nunatsiaq News website, his favorite English-Inuktitut weekly newspaper.
Joe showed up a few minutes later and stood by the door. “We really need to do something about Amaruq.”
“He’s a good old man, just poor and lonely. Can’t you leave him alone?”
“I would, if he left us alone.”
“Never mind him. Amaruq is always welcome here. My brother Julian, his soul rest in peace, owed him a huge debt that I can never repay. Remember when Amaruq found Julian almost frozen during the bowhead whale hunt? The occasional free drinks and meals are the least I can do for Amaruq.”
“More like regular than occasional,” Joe observed, his face showing he was unhappy with Kiawak’s reply.
“In a year or two, the old wolf will find a job he can actually do. Maybe even this summer, if construction starts. He can drive a small Bobcat or help with dry walling, be kind of a gofer, things like that.”
Joe remained unfazed, his left foot tapping nervously on the linoleum floor.
“Listen, starting tomorrow and over the weekend, I’ve got to work with some people from Ottawa. They’re DND.”
“What do they need you for?” Joe asked.
“They’re flying an Otter here, and we’re going for a research mission up north.”
“Where exactly up north?”
“We’re doing the regular triangle, Nanisivik to Pond Inlet to Grise Fiord and back.”
Joe shook his head. “I can’t believe this. Why do they have to do this now, in April? What’s so important that can’t wait till summer? July or August, when everyone flocks up there.”
“Justin, one of the DND researchers, told me they have to collect the data right now. Ice thickness, ice movement, melting levels, and other stats.”
Kiawak hated the fact he was lying to Joe about the reconnaissance mission. But Justin had insisted the mission remain top secret. If Joe learned about the real nature of Kiawak’s assignment, the entire Arctic would be buzzing with gossip.
“Do you know these researchers?”
“Justin, yes. I’ve worked with him before. I don’t know the other three. But they’re landing here tomorrow around noon. After refueling, we’ll take off.”