In the backyard stood five firm walls of wood piled neatly into ten cords waiting to be split. Gathering wood was a year-round process on the rez. People went into the bush to cut down spruce, oak, and maple to bring home for their own use or to sell. The band employed its own crew to provide wood for the elderly and others who needed help, and Evan brought any leftover wood home whenever he could.
He worked a few logs free from the top of the nearest stack and shoved them to the ground. He tipped the closest one upright and brought the axe up to his waist to begin his swing, his left hand closest to the butt of the handle and his right by the blade. He raised it high over his head and brought his hands together as he dropped the axe down, splitting the log with a loud crack that echoed into the field behind his home.
“Whoa, good swing, pipes!” Evan recognized his younger brother’s voice behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see a wide grin baring stained yellow teeth. Cam’s ball cap was pulled tightly over his forehead, concealing his eyes and causing his thick, greasy black hair to protrude in all directions.
“Oh, good, just in time to help!” Evan replied.
“Yeah, maybe if you give me a smoke,” said Cam.
“We’ll see. So what are you up to?”
“Nothin’, man. Fuckin’ bored. Can’t do nothin’ without no power.”
Cam didn’t have a job. He worked occasionally when the trees had to be cleared for the power lines or when a road crew was needed, but otherwise he spent his time playing video games at the apartment he shared with his girlfriend, Sydney, and their son, Jordan. They lived in the cluster of duplex buildings originally built for hydro workers, but after the men from the South left, the housing was made available to band members. It was temporary housing for the southerners but, like so much on the rez, it stayed up and got used.
“Good. About time you got up off your ass,” Evan poked.
“Fuck off. When’s the power supposed to come back on?” he asked.
“No idea. We froze our asses off last night because I let the furnace go out. That’s why I’m chopping more wood now, just in case.”
“Yeah, it was pretty chilly in our place too. Good thing Izzy and those guys came around early this morning to start ours.”
“Do you guys have enough wood to keep it going?” Evan asked.
“Yeah, I think so. They left some more for us.”
“You should know how to start that yourself anyways.”
“Meh, whatever.”
Only two years separated the brothers, but somehow Evan had landed on his feet in adulthood while Cam hadn’t yet. When Evan had been out on the land learning real survival skills with his father and uncles as a teenager, Cam had chosen to stay behind, learning simulated ones in video games.
“Well, be a good uncle for your niece and nephew anyway, and go grab that axe by that pile.”
Cam grumblingly obliged and the two split logs as the sun moved across the sky. Somewhere out on the road, a pack of dogs yelped and barked at something in the bush. They knew the storm was coming soon too.
Five
Three hard knocks woke Nicole and Evan. She groaned, and he turned over as three more thuds vibrated through the house. “What the hell is that?” she mumbled.
Evan groaned. “I’ll go check.”
He got out of bed in his T-shirt and boxer shorts in the grey predawn light.
At the door, he recognized the familiar silhouette of Isaiah, who smiled mischievously at Evan’s sleep-rumpled state and walked in.
“I woulda said whatever happened to calling,” Evan grumbled, “but I remembered the phones are out.”
“Yeah, all moccasin telegraph all the time these days,” Isaiah replied. Evan was already tired of this joke. Izzy fell into the armchair beside the door without taking off his heavy red parka, grey toque, or boots.
“What’s going on?”
“Terry wants everyone in public works over at the band office right away. He pounded at my door just about fifteen minutes ago. My job was to round you up.”
“It’s Saturday, damn it!”
“Yeah, well, he says it’s an emergency. He’s talking about firing up the generator. No one knows what’s going on with the hydro.”
The chief calling an emergency meeting on a Saturday morning was serious. Evan snapped awake. “Alright, lemme go get dressed,” he said. “What’s it like outside?”
“Gettin’ colder.”
“Shit.”
Evan quickly returned to the bedroom, where Nicole lay awake in the warm, uneasy darkness. “What’s Izzy want?”
“Gotta go to work,” he replied, as he picked up the jeans from the floor and pulled them on.
“What’s going on?”
“Not totally sure, but Izzy says Terry wants everyone in public works over at the shop. Guess he wants to turn the generator on.”
“That’s good. The food in the fridge might start to go bad without the power.”
“Yeah, and it’d be good to put the kids in front of a movie for a break,” he said with a laugh.
He leaned in to kiss his partner and walked back to the front door, where his outside clothes hung on the hook.
Once he was dressed, Evan and Isaiah stepped outside into the cold. A faint pink glow in the east hinted at the sunrise. I guess it’s not that early, Evan thought.
They climbed into Isaiah’s idling truck, and Evan appreciated the warmth of the cab. Isaiah turned up the country music on his truck’s stereo and backed out onto the road.
“First you wake me up to work on a Saturday, then you make me listen to this shit?” Evan said.
“Shut the hell up,” his friend shot back. “This music is about real pain and struggle. It’s our people’s music.”
Evan rolled his eyes and looked out the window, willing to let the music be a distraction from his worries. He loved his friend like a brother. They’d been through almost everything together — hunts, hardships, and heartaches — but he couldn’t stand Isaiah’s taste in music.
Each house the truck passed was dark. There wouldn’t be much activity in these homes this early on a Saturday anyway, but every unlit window was hard to ignore.
As the late fall sun began to peek over the horizon, its low angle cast tiny shadows behind the bigger chunks of gravel spread across the route. The shallow streams in the deep ditches on either side were frozen solid.
The truck rolled through the village to the outskirts on the other side of town. Black spruce trees closed in around them as they approached the generating station by the shop. The reverberating echo of a slide guitar faded slowly as Isaiah lined his truck up with the six other pickup trucks in front of the high brick building. He smiled as he parked, no doubt amused that he had made Evan endure another country song.
Terry Meegis, the chief, stood near the green front door with Evan’s father, having a smoke. Evan wasn’t surprised to see Dan there. He was head of the band’s public works department and would be instrumental in any decisions that needed to be made.
Evan and Isaiah got out of the truck and approached the two older men. The huge white diesel tanks that loomed over the shop were stained a deep orange by the rising sun. The sky above was brightening into a more comforting azure.
“Mino gizheb niniwag. Aaniish na?” said Terry.
“Morning,” they replied. Evan noticed dark circles under Terry’s eyes. He was only a couple of years older than Dan, but it was obvious that he wasn’t getting much sleep recently. The chief took a drag from his cigarette and ran a hand through his coarse hair. His short hairstyle caused his wiry hair to puff out around his ears and he looked just as he had for as long as Evan could remember, a reassuring constant in band life.