We saw the sun come out just as we were thinking about dinner, so Jon and I made some sandwiches so we could go ashore for a final picnic in Haida Gwaii. Jon made a couple extra for himself, as usual; he’s a big guy, and it’s not all muscle.
Darrel found our way to Hotspring Island, radioing the Watchmen for permission to drop in. They told us it had been pretty quiet for a weekend in late August, and invited us ashore.
One of the Watchmen met us as we clambered onto the beach after anchoring offshore, dressed in a red rain jacket with a round hat made from tree bark. He looked a little younger than us, which surprised me, and to be honest I had trouble telling if he was anything other than just another white guy from Coquitlam or wherever.
“Hello,” the man said. “I’m Paul. Sánuu dáng gíidang? How are you doing?”
He seemed to be looking at me more than anyone else. I walked over and offered my hand. “Hi… I’m Steph. Thanks for letting us visit.”
“It’s always good to have visitors in Xaadala Gwayee. Keeps me busy.”
“We brought a picnic,” Breccan said. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“That’s fine,” Paul said. “There’s a great place up the trail I can show you.”
“You’re coming with us?” Breccan was already going full on bitch mode. “We didn’t pack enough sandwiches for you.”
“Breccan…” I said quietly, hoping she’d just stop talking.
The Watchman didn’t seem to be bothered by it. I guess Breccan is a certain type of girl we’ve all gotten used to. I’ve lived with her since we started at UBC; I don’t notice it most of the time.
“My mother grew up in Masset,” Darrel said.
“My family is from there,” Paul said. “I live in Vancouver the rest of the year.”
“We’re probably neighbours,” I said. Then I felt a little stupid.
He grinned. “Could be. Are you that girl in my building who sings ‘Gagnam Style’ in the shower each morning?”
I laughed. “I have a few more songs on my playlist.”
He brought us up to an overlook with a small bench. It was hard for all four of us to even fit there, and Paul just stood to the side like he was part of the scenery.
Breccan kept giving me weird looks while we ate, but without saying much I couldn’t tell if she was creeped out by Paul’s very existence or just creeped out that I was being nice to him.
I didn’t think there was anything creepy about him; after a week and a half with Darrel and Jon it was nice to meet a guy I didn’t want to whack with a paddle.
After we ate Paul led us back down to the changerooms, and then we showered and tried the hot spring pool by the beach. Breccan had snuck a flask into the water but I didn’t feel right drinking from it. I wasn’t surprised to find I was the only one who felt that way.
It started to rain again.
“Do they ever have a day without rain?” Breccan said.
“It’s part of the mystique,” Jon said. “I feel like this is the perfect setting for some kind of fantasy epic. A Song of Fog and More Fog.”
“You’re seriously the funniest virgin I’ve ever known,” Darrel said.
“I’ll be glad to get home to sunny Vancouver,” Breccan said. “It’s like the Sahara compared to this place.”
“I like this place,” I said, hoping that Paul was listening. I imagine that’s part of the job of a watchman. “The Realm of Fairy is a strange shadow land, lying just beyond the fields we know.”
Breccan groaned. “Shit. You’re getting poetic again.”
“And I’m not even drunk.”
“It’s rainy here because Raven stole the sun,” Darrel said. “That is the story.”
“That’s not the story,” Paul said, stepping towards the pool. “A chief was keeping the light in a treasure box, leaving the rest of the world in darkness. Raven tricked him by sneaking inside the chief’s daughter and emerging as a baby.”
“Virgin birth,” Jon said. “I read about that somewhere.”
Paul didn’t acknowledge the interruption. “He grew into a small child, and begged his grandfather to let him see the light. The chief finally gave in and opened the box. He took out the light and threw it to his grandson, but Raven transformed into a bird once again and grabbed the ball of light with his beak. He flew up through the smokehole of the house and brought the light up to the sky, where it remains to this day. And scene.”
“You’re telling us there’s a sun somewhere up there?” Breccan said. “Sounds like your Raven Jesus didn’t do that great of a job.”
“That’s not funny, Breccan,” I said.
“It’s a little funny,” Darrel said. “Besides, I was the one who was telling the story in the first place.”
“Sorry,” Paul said. “I get carried away sometimes.”
“I guess it’s your job. Telling fairy tales to tourists.” He gave a little nod, obviously impressed with himself.
Paul shook his head but he didn’t take the bait.
I was feeling a little hot and a lot uncomfortable. I stood up from the pool.
“Fun’s over?” Darrel asked.
I shrugged.
Breccan followed me out of the pool, and we went together to get changed.
Darrel and Jon were still in the pool when we returned.
Paul had stepped back a little, and I could tell he didn’t feel particularly wanted.
“We took a vote,” Jon said. “We’re staying in this pool forever.”
“Sounds good,” I said. I nodded to Paul. “Do you know how to sail a ketch?”
“How do you think I got here?” he said. “Have you seen how much the ferry to the mainland costs?”
“You sailed up from Vancouver, too, eh?” Darrel said. He sounded a little pissed off.
“It’s a pretty long trip by canoe.”
“Heh. I guess you’ve got plenty of time to sail in your line of work.”
“That’s true. Mortgage brokers can get a lot of papers signed out on the water. You learn to compensate for all the rocking on the boat.”
“Mortgage broker. So you’re like a bank teller?”
“Pretty much,” Paul said, unaffected. “I got my start as an ATM machine. The 24-hour shifts were murder.”
“I… I guess it’s good that there are jobs for people who don’t have degrees.” He was flailing. He couldn’t think of anything clever.
I loved watching him squirm.
“So didn’t you say there’s a village site on the island, Darrel?” Jon asked.
“Yeah,” Darrel said, sounding more than a little relieved at the well-timed change of subject.
“Not much left,” Paul replied. “I can show you guys if you want.”
“That would be great,” I said. “Thank you.”
He smiled at me. “We don’t know much about this village.”
“How can that be?” Breccan asked. “Don’t you guys keep records?”
His smile faded. “We lost a lot,” he said. “The people who live in Haida Gwaii today are descendants of a handful of survivors. Smallpox, typhoid, measles…”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He nodded. “I’m just glad we’re still here.”
A raven sounded out from above us, and I looked up to see it circling.
“That’s Edgar,” Paul said. “He’s kind of a big deal around here.”
That made me laugh. “How can you tell him from all the other ravens?” I asked.
“He’s huge. That’s the easiest way to tell. That and he’s alone.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Edgar used to have a partner in crime almost as big. The guys named her Poesy. Like Edgar Allan…”