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  There was a knock on the bathroom door.

  “Floyd? Are you done in there yet?” Mouse called out.

  “Yeah, Mouse. I’m done.” I opened the door, shaking off my thoughts of family — mine and Mouse’s. I walked to the kitchen, following the mouth-watering smells of fish sizzling in oil and butter melting over garden fresh beans.

  “Mouse! Hurry up!” I called over my shoulder. My phone dinged and I read the text without pausing. “Hey, John, Mom is at Auntie Martha’s for dinner. But she asked me to thank you for asking.”

  “No problem. Floyd, have you ever smelled anything as amazing as my wife’s fish fry?” He put his arms around Raynetta from behind.

  She leaned her head back and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Get out of this kitchen, you two. Let me finish up the fish so I can get it to the table. Shoo!” She turned and flicked at John with the dish towel. He pulled her ponytail and then grabbed my arm. He yanked me out of the room with him and plopped himself down at the head of the table.

  “Come on, woman!” he shouted. “Bring me my dinner!”

  Chapter 17

  Whispers

  Dinner at Mouse’s house was full of laughter. They seemed happy. They were polite to each other and listened to what each had to say about their day.

  Mouse was, of course, full of stories about our adventures fishing. John talked about his ideas for landscaping around the tractor out front. Raynetta smiled at him and I couldn’t look away as he took her hand and raised it to his lips.

  I ate quietly, glancing up now and then at Kaya. She was laughing good-naturedly at her brother and smiled back at me when she caught me looking.

  “The fish is wonderful, Floyd. You boys did a great job. Now everyone, pe mitso! Eat!” Raynetta said.

  I smiled back at her, pleased to be singled out as a provider. They were all so easy to be around. I couldn’t get used to how nice they were to each other. I mean, my parents were nice. We didn’t have any of the family issues that a lot of people on the rez had. But lately we hadn’t had much to say to each other. We’d all been in our own little worlds.

  “So any idea what your dad is doing . . . you know . . . with everything that’s going on?” John asked through a forkful

  of salad.

  “John!” Raynetta tried to shush him.

  “What? We need to be able to talk about this stuff. That’s the only way it’s going to get better.”

  “Dad is right,” Kaya said.

  He was, actually. Half the problem was that no one seemed to be talking about what we could do. Especially my dad. I had a feeling that his silence had something to do with his past at school. He had to have learned young that if something was wrong, you kept it to yourself or suffered the consequences.

  “If more people were talking about this, maybe someone would do something. Someone needs to get us some help,” Kaya continued.

  I saw Raynetta look at me uncomfortably.

  I knew I had to say something. “Well . . . I mean, my dad is trying to do something . . .” I trailed off. To be honest, I didn’t have a clue what he was doing. He kept saying he and the Council had plans to help everyone. But so far, I wasn’t seeing any follow through.

  “I’m sure he is, sweetheart,” Raynetta said to me. She frowned at her husband and changed the subject. “So how’s your mother, Floyd?”

  Dinner passed quickly for me after that. I laughed at Mouse’s jokes. My face hurt from smiling so much. After eating like there was no tomorrow, and polishing off seconds of dessert and

  coffee, I pushed back from the table and patted my full

  stomach. John and Mouse did the same.

  “That was a great supper, sweetheart,” John said, smiling

  at his wife. I watched as she gazed back warmly and began clearing the dishes from the table. She went to the kitchen and Kaya followed her.

  Mouse and his father were talking about a soccer game they had watched together the week before. John was promising to practice in the backyard with his son that weekend. I watched as he leaned over and engulfed his son in a warm, one-armed hug. John hadn’t been to residential school or have the pressure of leading a community on his shoulders. Maybe that’s what had made my father more reserved. Less affectionate. Less likely to smile and hug his son.

  “Mouse,” said John, “you better go hose down the cleaning station outside. Floyd and I can finish clearing up in here.”

  “Okay, Dad. I’ll be back in a minute.” He raced off. Mouse only seemed to have one speed. FAST.

  I stood up and grabbed the platter of fish bones . . . all that was left after the hungry vultures had descended on it. I took it and what was left of the bowl of green beans with me as I followed John toward the kitchen. I guess I wasn’t paying close enough attention. When John stopped suddenly, I walked right into his back, spilling a shower of leftover fish bits on his shirt.

  “Oh, sor—”

  “SHHHHH!” He slapped a meaty hand over my open mouth and gestured frantically toward the kitchen with a bowl of mashed potatoes. I nodded, trying to show that I understood and hoping against hope that he would take his hand off my mouth. It was so big he was also covering my nose and I couldn’t breathe. As he let go, I drew a deep, grateful breath. I wondered for the millionth time how a giant like John could possibly have fathered a little guy like Mouse.

  John held a finger up to his lips. He was dancing from foot to foot and waving madly toward the kitchen. Okay then. Now I saw the resemblance to his son.

  John leaned toward the swinging door and nearly yanked me off my feet, pulling me forward with him. Raynetta and Kaya were doing the dishes. I could hear the water running into

  the sink and dishes clattering together. I could also hear them talking. Loudly. Raynetta was clearly in the middle of some kind of monologue.

  “Kaya, isn’t Floyd funny and smart? And he is so sweet with Mouse.” Wait. What? They were talking about me. I looked up at John and he grinned back.

  “I know, Mom,” I heard Kaya answer. “He’s nice, okay? Can we please stop talking about him now?”

  “Did you see him when he came in with Mouse? He’s so handsome. And he’d make such a great boyfriend.”

  Oh. My. God. Mouse’s mom was pimping me out.

  “MOM! For god’s sake! What are you? Thirteen?”

  John was doubled over, silently laughing. He reached over and smacked me on the ass. Nice.

  “What? I’m just saying that Floyd is a good boy. And good looking too,” Raynetta shot back.

  “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with my mother. Okay! Miwapewiw! Are you happy now?”

  My face was on fire. Kaya thought I was handsome. KAYA THOUGHT I WAS HANDSOME! John shot me a silent high five and nodded back toward the dining room. Time to back out before we got caught eavesdropping.

  “Hey, guys!” Mouse was speaking way too loudly as he

  wandered in from the other room. “What are you doing just standing out here?”

  There was silence from the kitchen. I hoped the ground would choose that moment to open up and swallow me whole. Mouse pushed open the door and held it for me and his dad to enter the kitchen. It gave his mom and sister a clear view of John’s grinning face and my scarlet one. I could see that Kaya’s face had gone completely white. What a pair we made. She was looking down, so I couldn’t see her eyes. I can’t say I blamed her.

  “We didn’t hear anything,” John blurted out.

  Raynetta rolled her eyes at him, and cleared her throat. “Well, come on. Bring those dishes in. They’re not going to clear themselves.”

  Dear Diary

  Dear Journal

  Dear WhoeverIdontcarewho

  She likes me.

  She actually likes me.

  Me!

  Suddenly, I can feel that dark cloud that’
s been following me around lifting. Instead of being rooted in the past, I finally feel some kind of hope for my future.

  And I want Kaya to be part of it.

  I keep thinking about different programs we could run for kids to help them connect to our culture. I wonder if kids other than Mouse would want to go fishing? Maybe we could have some kind of fishing derby? The one with the biggest fish would win a prize. And we could cook up all the fish we catch and have a potlatch. I know there are some people here who aren’t doing so well. Old Mr. Simard can’t hunt or fish anymore and his pension barely covers the bills. We could go back to the tribe mentality where everyone is taken care of and no one goes without what they need.

  Going back to our roots could be a good thing for us —

  for my friends and for me. It could be a good thing for me and Kaya.

  Chapter 18

  Around the Fire

  I left Mouse and his family and headed back to the lake. I knew the guys were still there from the texts I had been

  getting all evening. Sounded like there was a huge party raging on

  without me.

  All I could think about on my walk to the lake was Kaya.

  I hadn’t been interested in anyone for a while . . . since before Aaron had died. Losing one of my best friends and being the one who found his body kind of put me off romance for a while. Aaron had despaired of finding anyone to love on the rez. How could I not see how bad it was for him? How could

  I not save him? The guilt I felt had left me barely functional. And my father still hadn’t realized how badly we needed some kind of counselling here.

  I pushed the thought of Aaron away and focused on happier thoughts. Like the future. Like Kaya. I don’t know what it was about her but she was in my head.

  Another neon flyer fluttered past, caught in an updraft.

  I grabbed at it. Another stupid flyer for my dad’s project with Kevin Feldman. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. I just didn’t get it.

  Everyone down by the lake was apparently wondering the same thing. As I walked up to the bonfire, I heard a bunch of kids talking about it.

  “What do you think Kevin Feldman is going to say?”

  someone asked.

  I spotted Charlie through the flames. “I don’t know, man. But Floyd’s dad must know what he’s doing.”

  I was impressed that Charlie was standing up for my dad. Charlie knew as well as I did that Dad didn’t have a clue what he was doing.

  “But Feldman’s a loser!” another kid said.

  “Yeah, he is. But maybe he’s got some good ideas or something.”

  “Kevin Feldman hasn’t done anything good since he made that horror movie when he was fourteen. It’s been downhill for him since then.”

  “Yeah!” a chorus of voices rang out.

  I was about to call out to Charlie when someone’s voice broke into the jeers.

  “I hear he’s coming here to make a movie.”

  I stopped in my tracks.

  “What? What movie?” Charlie asked.

  “I heard my dad talking to my mom.” It was Ben, the guy I had seen with a girl wrapped around him earlier. His father was on the Council with my dad.

  “And?”

  “So the talk is that Feldman is obsessed with The Revenant. Totally thinks he should have played the DiCaprio part.” There was a round of laughter at that. “He wants to make another blockbuster just like it. But this time he’d be the star.”

  “So, he wants to remake an Oscar-winning movie into some lame B-movie with D-list actors and a tiny budget?” Charlie asked. “Why is he coming here to do that?”

  “He wants to make it here because none of the other reserves would let him. I heard that he saw the news reports of that other reserve up north . . . the one under the water

  advisory? He called them first. When they said no, he called the one that’s been on the news for a suicide epidemic. They said no too. No one else would let him film on their land. So he called us and we said yes. I think he wants us to be the extras.”

  Wait a second. My dad was going to let this guy come in and use us to make his crappy movie?

  The group had erupted into loud insulting comments about Feldman. The kind of comments that would result in one of his famous slander lawsuits.

  “I’m so getting discovered!” Jasper was crowing, posing and strutting around like he was holding an Oscar. “I’d like to thank all of the little people . . .”

  “My dad doesn’t think we should let him do it,” Ben said over the din.

  “Why?” Jasper demanded. “This could be my big break!”

  The statement was met by hoots from the other kids.

  “Because my dad said it’s a joke, only Feldman doesn’t get it. It’s like an old cowboys and Indians movie. It makes fun of us. A bunch of drunk Indians saved by the white man. It basically cashes in on every single cliché there is.”

  “Yeah, well, my dad says they’d have to cut down all the trees along the lake to make room for the trailers and equipment and stuff,” a girl added.

  “Not just for the equipment,” Ben said.

  “What do you mean?” Charlie asked him.

  “It’s supposed to take place on the plains. So they want to raze the forest around the lake in every direction.”

  Oh god. What was my father thinking? Yeah, maybe it would bring money in. But at what cost? The money would dry up soon enough and it wasn’t going to help anyone in the long run.

  If anything, we’d come off looking stupid and lose an entire

  forest in the process. And it would probably keep us from getting funding and programs we desperately needed. My dad would let a Hollywood has-been destroy our home for that?

  The conversation was in full swing. But instead of moving into the firelight and joining in, I stepped backward and walked away. There was no way I could defend my father this time.

  I didn’t even want to try.

  Part of a paper I wrote for school:

  Crazy Horse yelled out “Hoka Hey! Today is a good day to die” before the Battle of Little Big Horn. If a warrior could die bravely and with honour, then he died a good death. So Crazy Horse felt that dying in battle, fighting for what he believed in, was honourable. That’s what made it a good day to die. The phrase would be used for centuries by tribes everywhere.

  Chapter 19

  Kaya

  I went to bed that night thinking about Kaya. I woke up the next morning, still thinking about her. The way she smiled at me. The way she laughed. The way her hair hung over her shoulders. It was mortifying. I was turning into some kind of Romeo or something. I was seventeen, so it wasn’t like

  I hadn’t had girlfriends before. But Kaya was different. She was smart and funny. She was so beautiful that I couldn’t think of

  anything but her eyes and her lips and the way they turned up slowly into a soft smile that lit up her entire face. See? Freakin’ Romeo. Next thing, I’d be composing sonnets and writing love songs. But thinking about Kaya kept me from thinking about my dad and what he was doing with Kevin Feldman. And what he wasn’t doing for our people.

  I was standing at the kitchen counter making a turkey sandwich and singing along to the radio. My mom liked Q107 — Toronto’s Best Rock according to the DJ. My mom was dusting in the living room and the Rolling Stones and I were singing about getting no satisfaction, when the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” my mom said. She headed over to the door while I spread mayo on the bread and slapped turkey and lettuce down on top. I was cutting a tomato and doing a little dance along to the music. Then I heard a throat being cleared behind me. I did a little spin à la Mick Jagger and came face to face with Kaya. Oh, come on! Do I ALWAYS have to look like a complete dork in front of her?

  Kaya’s mouth was twitching. I couldn’t look away. A slow smile crept across her
face. To her credit, she looked like she was trying not to laugh. My face, meanwhile, was about to burst into flame.

  “Hi,” she said without breaking eye contact.

  “Hi.” Oh good. A brilliant response. Where the hell was Romeo when I needed him?

  “I was walking by and I thought I’d stop in. Say hi.”

  “Oh. Hi.” Yup, said that already. “Well . . . maybe I can walk you home?” Better, Floyd.

  “Yeah. I’d like that.”

  “Cool.”

  I wrapped my sandwich in foil and put it in the fridge for later. In the grand scheme of things, this was definitely more important than food. I smiled at Kaya, taking a deep breath and willing my hands to stop shaking.

  “Ready?”

  * * *

  I wasn’t always the smoothest talker but I found that I didn’t have to try too hard with Kaya. She made it easy for me to talk about things like my boring high school and my friends. And any time I found myself at a loss for words, she had something to talk about. Her fancy performing arts school. Mouse. Books. Music. Movies. It turned out we liked a lot of the same things. Once I got past the fact that she was the most beautiful girl

  I had ever seen, she was actually pretty cool.

  “So Charlie has a thing for superheroes?” she laughed.

  “Not just a thing. It’s more like an obsession. Like who could beat who in a fight . . . that kind of thing.”

  She laughed out loud. Man, she had a great laugh. I could listen to her laughing all day.

  “Like who? Who does Charlie see in the big match-up?”

  “Well he had this thing recently about whether Wonder Woman could kick a guy’s ass.”

  “What? Of course she could! Just because she’s a woman . . . she’s still WONDER Woman, for crying out loud!”

  “Clearly I better keep the two of you away from each other. You guys might come to blows.”