“I’m Julie, and this here is Jack.”
The twins stared at Julie’s chest, but neither of them spoke.
“Jean,” the unarmed man, eventually mumbled, and then tilted his head. “Adam.”
“Nice to meet you, John. Can you please call the police?” Julie asked Jean.
“Phone, no work out here,” Jean said in a French accent.
“Oh…” Julie gasped. “We’ve been walking for days. You’re the first people we’ve met since the plane crashed. Is there any chance you can give us something to eat, and drive us to the nearest town? I’m sure the press will salute your every effort.”
The twins looked at each other, but neither of them spoke.
“So where are we exactly?” Julie asked.
Once again, the twins looked Julie up and down.
“Where is this?” Julie pointed toward the ground.
Adam mumbled a word in French, making his twin brother laugh.
“Did you say, Layfair,” Julie asked Adam.
“Oui … Layfair,” Jean responded, and pronounced the name in an English accent.
“I don’t think I ever heard of that,” Julie said. “Is it far to the ocean?”
“What ocean?” Jean responded in a French accent.
“The Pacific.” Julie hesitated and looked at Jack.
“I thought I saw the ocean on the horizon,” Jack said.
“No ocean,” Jean said, and shook his head. “Great Slave.”
“The great what?” Jack asked.
“One of biggest lakes in world,” Jean said, staring provocatively at Jack.
“Are we close to Yellowknife?” Julie asked.
Jean responded with a single nod.
“Can you please drive us to Yellowknife?” Julie asked Jean.
“You shower and eat, and then we take you.”
“Thank you, John,” Julie said. “Much obliged.”
Jean walked toward the house, but his brother didn’t move. Jack picked Julie up and carried her in his arms as they made their way toward the house. Adam walked behind Jack, the rifle still resting casually across his shoulders.
The interior of the house that greeted them was shabby, but not entirely untidy. Julie was given a towel and limped her way into the bathroom, while Jack awkwardly remained alone with Adam in the living room. Silence filled the space, and the atmosphere was as cold as ice. The only sound was the sound of a running shower. Jean remained in the kitchen where the man kept stirring a pot of beef stew while he casually leaned against the kitchen counter—as did the rifle next to him.
Jack broke the silence in the living room. “You wouldn’t happen to smoke?”
Adam shook his head in response.
“I was afraid of that.” Jack exhaled loudly. “Do you mind if I go and take a look at the truck? I used to drive one.”
At first, Adam didn’t respond. Instead, he looked Jack in the eyes. He appeared to be chewing, even though he had nothing in his mouth. Perhaps he was chewing on the question. Eventually, Adam stopped chewing, nodded, and then barked a few instructions in French to his brother in the kitchen. Then he pointed Jack toward the front door and walked behind him as the two men left the house.
Jack and Adam stood next to each other and gazed at the truck. But they didn’t engage in a meaningful conversation with each other; their dialog mostly consisted of nouns. Jack pronounced several nouns in line with the vocabulary describing a large semi-trailer, and Adam responded by shaking or nodding his head and occasionally raising his eyebrows.
Jack looked at the small house next to the barn. “Do you guys have a house each, or does someone else live in the smaller house?”
“Mother lives there,” Adam said in a thick French accent. “She sick.”
After an awkward pause, Jack looked across the lawn, and then turned his eyes toward the barn. “Do you have pigs on the farm?”
Adam had a look of insult. “No pigs.”
“I just thought you might have pigs on the farm on account of the apples.” Jack pointed at the trees and all the fallen apples rotting away on the ground. “But the apples are only there to attract the thieves—am I right?”
Adam smiled wide and revealed his dirty and discolored teeth. “Oui, I shoot one this morning, from kitchen window,” Adam said enthusiastically, and tilted his head. “You come see.”
The moose hung upside down from the ceiling in the barn. The head was missing, and so was the skin. Adam slapped the side of the carcass and then formed a crooked smile. He appeared proud of his accomplishment.
“That’s a big one,” Jack said.
Jack took his eyes off the prey and focused on the wall in the background. At first, he smiled, but then his jaw dropped.
Beside a shelf with a few glass jars on it nothing was striking about the wall. One jar, however, was filled with soil.
“Quoi?” Adam looked Jack in the eyes.
“What?” Jack frowned.
“What.” Adam smiled and nodded once.
Jack looked Adam up and down and then swallowed hard. “I’m going to check on Julie.”
Before Jack made his way out of the barn, he once again glanced at the glass jar.
Jack walked toward the main house with Adam a few yards behind him. Suddenly, he stopped. “Could you be so kind and ask your mother for some clothes? We’ve been wearing the same clothes for a week. Perhaps your mother has some clothes in Julie’s size?”
Adam seemed agitated by the question, and once again, he appeared to be chewing, moving his jaw and wrestling his tongue. Eventually, he stopped chewing, and nodded slightly.
“I will look,” Adam said.
Adam pointed toward the main house, and seemed to encourage Jack not to follow him on his way to the small house next to the barn.
Julie sat by the dining room table, and as Jack entered the room, she smiled. Jack came up behind her and placed both his hands on her shoulders.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine, Jack.” Julie sounded a bit bewildered. “I limped over here.”
Jack looked at the bathroom door just a few yards away. “I’m going to take a shower and lose the beard. I won’t be long. Don’t go anywhere. Okay?”
“I didn’t see a razor in there. I was…” Julie trailed off and looked embarrassed, while she glanced at her legs.
“There should be a razor,” Jack said and focused on the kitchen.
“Both Adam and John have full-grown beards. I don’t think they shave, Jack.”
“They shave their heads,” Jack responded quickly. “My good man! Do you have a razor I could borrow?”
Jean had stopped stirring the pot and had placed four deep porcelain bowls on the counter next to the stove. Now, he looked toward the dining room and frowned.
“Razor.” Jack pronounced the word slowly, and scratched his beard.
Jean shook his head, and scratched his beard in response.
“Razor.” Jack ran his hand through his hair.
Jean twitched and then stroked his bald head. Then, he went to the dresser next to the bathroom door and took out an old-fashioned razor along with a pack of blades from the top drawer.
“Le rasoir,” Jean said in a perfect French accent, and winked at Julie.
Jean walked sideways to the kitchen, his eyes focused on Jack.
“Is John the one in the kitchen?”
Jack shrugged his shoulders at Julie and then went into the bathroom.
When Jack emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, the dining table was set and three out of four chairs were occupied. The twins had their backs toward the kitchen. Jack sat down next to Julie in the chair furthest away from the kitchen. No knives or forks had been placed on the table, only spoons. Jack had shaved his beard. However, his hair wasn’t wet.