Rez Rebel Page 12

I didn’t have to leaf through too many pages to see that something was wrong. At the beginning of the book, Mouse’s drawings were colourful and vivid and full of life. They were pretty amazing actually. But closer to the end of the book they got dark. Disturbing. Sad. He switched out his coloured pencils and markers for black ink and charcoal. One picture showed a boy sitting in a corner with his knees drawn up to his chest and his face hidden in his arms. There were people standing over him, laughing.

  The next page wasn’t any better. On it the same boy was sinking, reaching toward the surface of the water and screaming.

  I turned another page and saw the boy again. It was Mouse —

  I could see his face clearly in this one. He was standing in the rain, looking utterly hopeless. I couldn’t look away from his face. He had drawn himself with no life left in his eyes.

  I closed the book and handed it back to Kaya. My heart was somewhere down around my sneakers.

  “I’m going to look for him. You stay here in case he comes back,” I told Kaya. “I’m heading down to the lake. Charlie and Jasper will be here soon. Send them out in the other direction, okay? I’ll have my phone with me. Call me if you hear anything.”

  “I will.”

  I kissed her forehead and left, heading down toward the lake. I rushed toward the same area where I had found Aaron.

  I was wishing with all my might that history wouldn’t repeat itself tonight.

  The woods were dark and my flashlight lit up just a few feet in front of me. I was going hoarse yelling Mouse’s name at the top of my lungs. It got brighter and my heart beat faster the closer I got to the lake. I was terrified that I’d find Mouse just like I had found Aaron. I couldn’t handle that again.

  “Mouse!” I yelled, as I stepped into the clearing and ran down the beach. Where was he? I looked in the spot he had been the last time we were at the lake. It was empty. I checked my phone. Nothing. No one had found him yet or they would have let me know.

  I walked aimlessly. Despite myself, despite my growing

  desperation . . . or maybe because of it . . . I started coming up with a story in my head.

  Once upon a time there was a little mouse who wanted to fit in. Wherever the bigger mice would go, he would follow. He ran after them, trying to get their attention. But they were too busy with their own big mouse lives to notice him.

  The little mouse tired himself out chasing after the bigger mice. He nibbled at their ankles to make them notice him. But the bigger mice just ran faster, chasing girl mice and having mouse adventures without him.

  Feeling rejected, the lonely little mouse finally gave up. He found a quiet spot by the water where he could curl up and hide.

  The bigger mice kept running around. But soon they noticed that no one was nipping at their ankles. No one was asking questions or trying to get in on their

  adventures. One by one, they stopped running and

  looked around.

  “Where’s the little mouse?” one of them asked.

  “Wasn’t he just behind us?” another guessed.

  “I haven’t seen him in a while,” said a third mouse.

  The bigger mice were worried. They couldn’t remember a time when the little mouse wasn’t chasing after them. They started looking for him. They ran across the fields, calling his name. They looked under logs and ran over rocks, calling his name.

  But the little mouse didn’t answer.

  I knew I could never write down the story unless it had a happy ending. And the story didn’t have a happy ending because the stupid bigger mouse forgot that the little mouse was there and never did talk to him or take him fishing. Because he’s an idiot.

  Damn.

  I turned in circles, looking for my friend but it was hopeless. He wasn’t here. I turned around and started to head back into the darkness of the forest. I walked toward the tree line and then stopped suddenly.

  I was an idiot.

  I knew where he was.

  I turned away from the woods and headed down the beach at a full run.

  Chapter 27

  Found

  I was out of breath and had a stitch in my side by the time I got there. I arrived at the dock where the fishing boat was tied up. Mouse was sitting on the end, his feet dangling over the edge.

  He was looking down at something in his lap.

  His dad’s gun.

  I slowed down, not wanting to startle him.

  “Mouse?” I called out gently.

  He looked over. He turned his head to watch me walking up the lake’s edge toward him.

  “It’s me. Floyd.”

  “Floyd?” Mouse’s voice was shaking. He was crying.

  “Yeah, buddy. Can I come and sit with you?”

  He shrugged. I took that for a yes. I walked down the dock and lowered myself carefully beside him. I saw the gun in his hand and tried not to stare at it. We’d get to that in

  a minute.

  “How are you doing, Mouse? Are you okay?”

  “No,” he broke down. “I’m tired of it, Floyd.”

  I put a hand on his back. “Tired of what, buddy?”

  “Tired of being made fun of and teased all the time.

  I try to laugh. And not care. But I do. I hate it. They push me around. I don’t know how to fight back when they’re so much bigger than I am. School’s about to start and I don’t think I can take another year of that.”

  I nodded. I had been called names and dealt with the racist bullshit at school. But no one had ever dared push me around for long. But I understood how he felt. “Remember

  I told you that the kids made fun of my hair?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I didn’t tell you that they made fun of my clothes

  sometimes, too. We couldn’t afford new school clothes one year.

  I was wearing an old pair of jeans with holes in the knees and a t-shirt my dad had meant to throw out. They called me a dirty Indian and said we were on welfare. They said my dad was a drunk. We weren’t on welfare, and Dad didn’t drink. Not then. But they didn’t bother to see past the way I looked. They saw what they thought was a poor kid from the rez and made fun of me. Which was pretty stupid. I was a poor kid from the rez but that wasn’t all I was. You know? It didn’t make them any better than me.”

  “But didn’t it bother you?”

  “Of course. It bothered me a lot. I punched one of them. The one who had called me a dirty Indian.”

  “But they’re bigger than me,” Mouse said sadly. “If I fight them, I’ll get hurt.”

  “You shouldn’t have to fight, Mouse. Believe me, I can’t fight everyone who I think deserves it. My mom taught me that violence is never the answer. I know you can’t just ignore them. But you can learn to protect yourself. I’ll help you.

  And this year you’ll be in high school. With me.”

  “Yeah?” There was a hint of hope in his voice.

  “Yeah. And Charlie and Jasper and Ben too. We’re not going to let anyone bully you, Mouse. It’ll get easier. I promise. Fighting isn’t the answer. And neither is that,” I said. I nodded down at the gun in his hand.

  “I know, Floyd,” he murmured. “I didn’t really want to die.

  I just . . . I didn’t know what else to do. I just wanted it to stop.”

  “Yeah,” I said. I knew that was how Aaron must have felt that night in the woods. I couldn’t stop it that night but

  I could now. “But maybe if you feel this way again you can talk to me about it. I know I haven’t been here for you as much as I should have. And I’m sorry for that, Mouse. I got caught up with Kaya and didn’t realize how badly you needed help. That won’t happen again. I promise.”

  “Okay,” he said simply.

  I reached over and took the gun. I put it down beside me and slung an arm across Mouse’s shoulders.
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  “I wasn’t there for Aaron. And I haven’t been there for you. But I will be. And if you ever feel like this again, you call me. No matter what time it is. It’ll be like the Bat signal,” I told him, trying to make him smile. “You call and I’ll be there.” I hugged him hard against my side.

  “I will, Floyd. Thanks.”

  “You don’t have to thank me, buddy. We’re friends.”

  He hugged me back.

  In a bit, I stood and offered him a hand. I pulled him up to his feet.

  “I have to call everyone and let them know you’re okay,”

  I explained. “There are a lot of people out looking for you. We all care about you, Mouse.”

  He smiled a little at that. I was grateful I had the chance to tell him. I had been too late to tell Aaron that I loved him like a brother and didn’t care if he was gay. I wasn’t going to make that kind of mistake again.

  “Come on. Let’s get you home,” I said. I left my arm around his shoulder and let him talk the whole way back.

  Dear Self — who is, hopefully, older and wiser than I was yesterday,

  I haven’t believed in happy endings for a really long time. Hard to think things are going to end well when the people you love keep dying.

  Or showing how human they are.

  But I found Mouse before he did something he couldn’t take back and we lost him forever. That’s about as happy an ending as I can imagine.

  I can’t imagine waking up to a world without Mouse in it.

  I can’t imagine finding another friend dead by the water.

  I can’t imagine having to deal with the fact that I failed another person I love.

  Luckily, this time I didn’t have to.

  Mouse told me that he didn’t really want to die. I believe him. But he needs a friend that he can rely on and who has his back. He needs to know that someone cares about him.

  I failed to be the friend he needs. But I’ll never fail him again.

  I came close to losing him like I lost Aaron.

  It’s time I start trying to fix what’s wrong with our

  community. It’s time to help my friends find a place they can belong and be proud of.

  It’s time to step up and realize that I don’t have to wait until I’m older to start acting like a chief. The first step was standing up to my father and making him see that there are things we can do. Things I can do. If he won’t respect me enough to listen, then I’ll have to make him respect me.

  My friends and I, all of us, we have a future. It’s about time we took control of it.

  Chapter 28

  Being a Man

  I walked back with my arm tightly around Mouse’s shoulders.

  I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to let him go again. But I didn’t have a choice when I got him back home. He was all but torn away from me before we even crossed the yard. John ran across the yard so fast I was afraid he wasn’t going to be able to stop. But he screeched to a halt and grabbed Mouse away from me, throwing his arms around his son and crying loudly.

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” Mouse said, stretching his arms around his huge father.

  “We’ll take care of this, son. We’re going to talk about it and figure things out, okay? And if you ever need to talk, you come to me.” Tears were streaming down his face as he hugged his son tightly.

  Raynetta came out of the house and saw John and Mouse in the yard. With a scream, she flew down the stairs and ran to them. She grabbed Mouse and kissed him repeatedly. She was crying and hugging him like she never wanted to let him go.

  I knew how she felt.

  But this was a private moment. I had already called Jasper and Charlie to let them know that Mouse was okay. I was about to turn around and leave Raynetta and John alone with their son.

  “Floyd?” It was Kaya.

  I turned and smiled at her. “Told you I’d bring him back,”

  I said, giving her a quick hug. She kept sneaking looks over my shoulder at her brother. “Go.” I smiled and nodded toward Mouse.

  She smiled back and kissed me super-fast. Then she ran to her family and wiggled her way into the group hug to get to her brother.

  * * *

  If the awful experience with Mouse had taught me one thing it was that life was short. Obviously I knew that. Look at Aaron. But I had been trying to get my dad to listen to me for months, and had failed. We had almost lost Mouse because no one was doing anything to make things better for us. I couldn’t let that happen again. It was time to make my dad listen. It was time to start working toward a better life for us here.

  My father was in the kitchen when I got home. I had no thought of sneaking into my bedroom this time. I had put this off long enough.

  My dad must not have been home for long. There was a fresh drink sitting in front of him on the table. I watched him pick up the glass and swirl the ice cubes around before taking a huge gulp.

  “Dad?” I stepped into the kitchen and stood across from him.

  He looked up at me blearily. It wasn’t so much that it was the middle of the night as it was the fact that it clearly wasn’t his first drink. I felt a flash of anger.

  “Floyd?”

  “Yeah. We need to talk.”

  “About what?” He looked like his eyes wouldn’t quite focus.

  “Put your drink down, Dad. We need to talk. Now.”

  My tone must have shocked him into doing what I said. He put his drink down and stared at me.

  I started before he could get a word out. “Mouse almost died tonight. This place, our home, is dying around you. And you’re doing nothing about it. You’re letting it die. You’re letting our people die. I’ve watched you drowning in alcohol these past few weeks. I’ve watched you sink into depression. You can’t lead us like this, Dad. We need a leader. And you need help. You need to step down and let someone else lead for a while. You need to get healthy. Take care of yourself and let someone else take care of everything else for a while.”

  “I’m fine,” he protested.

  “You’re not. You’re turning into everything you always swore you wouldn’t be.” I looked at him hard. “You’re turning into

  your father.”

  I watched the colour drain from my father’s face. I wasn’t trying to hurt him and I felt bad. But that lasted only a few seconds.

  “Dad, Mouse could have died. I could have lost another friend like I lost Aaron. And it was my fault.”

  I saw him take this in. I didn’t want him to get me off track so I kept going before he had a chance.

  “It was my fault because I watched him fading away for weeks. He withdrew. He became a ghost of himself. And I was too busy with my friends . . . with Kaya to notice. I let him slip away until he felt like there was no hope left for him. But I got lucky.

  I found him before it was too late. I got to him before he could do anything . . . before he could kill himself. But next time . . . the next person who feels like they have no future, they might not be so lucky.”

  My father was staring at me. The words had died on his lips and he was listening to me. He was letting me speak and was actually listening.

  “I almost lost another friend. But I won’t let that happen again, Dad. I was too busy thinking about myself to be there for Mouse.”

  I took a deep breath. “And you’re too busy drinking and sinking into depression to be there for any of us.”

  “I’m working on getting funding —” he began.

  “It’s not enough! No amount of money is enough. It’s about us. I have ideas, Dad. Good ideas. You had a plan with Kevin Feldman and it didn’t work out. You should have moved on. Put it behind you and figured out another way to help. But you’re letting it destroy you. We all make mistakes.”

  “And you think your ideas will be any better than mine?”

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  “I do. And they’re not just my ideas. My friends and I have got some great ideas to start healing this community and giving us all something to look forward to.”

  “I’ve spent years leading our people,” my father said. He looked longingly at his drink. “Do you really think a bunch of kids can come up with an idea that I didn’t think of?”

  “Yes. We want to open up the community centre again. Start celebrating our culture again instead of drowning in it.”

  “How are you going to get the money for that?”

  “We don’t need it . . . not at first anyway. Everyone could pitch in and help. We have enough talent and knowledge right here. Our elders can teach us our language. They can help

  everyone learn to hunt and fish and find things in the forest. We could have classes in traditional arts like beading and dance. And not just the adults. Kids can share what they learn off the rez. Mouse could teach art. Kaya could do some theatre stuff when she’s home. Charlie and Jasper both play soccer and lacrosse. We could have storytelling nights and creative writing classes.

  I could do that.”

  “You’ve really given this a lot of thought, haven’t you? All

  of you.”

  “Yeah, Dad. We did. I know it’s not going to be some easy fix. All of our problems aren’t going to be solved overnight. But it’s a start.”

  My dad looked past me, out the window, into the darkness behind me. “I thought that losing the movie would be the end of us. I couldn’t see past Kevin Feldman taking his money back to Hollywood.” He shifted his gaze to me. “I fell apart. And you’re right. I started acting less like me and more like my father.”

  “But what sets a leader apart is the ability to admit when they’re wrong and move forward,” I told him.

  “You’re right. But this time it was you who found a way

  forward. Not me.”

  My father was looking down at his glass. Before I could say anything, he stood and walked over to me. He looked at me silently for a long moment. Then he reached out and grasped my shoulder.

  “You’re going to make a great chief someday, Floyd,”

  he told me. He looked as proud as I had ever seen him.