Questing for a Dream, page 5
Little Bird put his hand over his mouth. “No! I don’t want to see the dentist!”
His mother looked at the others for help, unsure what to do.
“Are you afraid he’s going to pull out your teeth?” asked Ben Fermet, an old man with big gaps between his remaining teeth. “They won’t do that unless they have to, and if they do, it will stop it from hurting.”
Little Bird squealed, apparently not comforted by this. “I’m not going,” he said frantically. “I’m not going to the dentist. I want to go back home. Let’s get in the car.”
“Shh.” Nadie comforted. She crouched down and tried to stay on Little Bird’s level, even with Luyu yanking and pulling on Nadie’s arm, trying to get her to move on to something more interesting.
“Little Bird. You don’t need to be scared.” Mouse said to the little boy. “Little Bird, come here. I will tell you a story about when I went to the dentist. Once when I was little, just about your age, I had a bad toothache.”
Little Bird nodded, his eyes big. He hung on Mouse’s words.
“It hurt day and night. I couldn’t eat, because it hurt when I chewed, or when I had anything hot, or cold, or sweet.” Little Bird nodded along, agreeing. “At night, I held my face and moaned. It hurt so much. I curled up in a little ball and wished someone could make the toothache go away.”
“Who made it go away?” Little Bird demanded.
“My mother said I needed to go to the dentist. The tooth had a hole in it the dentist needed to fix. The dentist has good medicine for teeth. He is a special kind of doctor who only works on teeth, and he makes them feel better.”
“Did you go to the dentist?” Little Bird was breathing hard.
“I told my mother no. I told her it didn’t hurt much, even though it made me moan all night and she knew how much it was hurting. She said I was going to waste away to nothing if I couldn’t eat and couldn’t sleep.”
“Did she make you?”
“She didn’t make me. She said I was a big boy and old enough to decide whether I should go to the dentist or not myself.”
“Me too. I’m big. And I don’t want to go.”
“But that didn’t make it any better. Finally, I went to my mother and begged her to take me to the dentist.”
“And she did!”
“No. It was winter and the roads were impassable. We couldn’t go into town yet. We had to wait until the roads were clear, and it seemed like a very, very long time.”
Little Bird’s hand was clamped over his mouth as if to keep anyone from looking at it or trying to fix it.
“While we were waiting, I got very sick. The infection in my tooth gave me a fever and made me feel very bad. I couldn’t even touch my face myself, it hurt so much.”
“Then what?”
“The roads were finally clear and we could go into town to see the dentist. When I sat in his big chair, he used a needle to put medicine into my mouth.”
Little Bird squawked at this, his eyes wild.
“When he put the medicine in my face, it felt better for the first time. It was so good not to have any more pain. It had been hurting for so long I almost forgot what it was like to feel good. The dentist fixed up the tooth that had a hole in it and hurt so bad. When he looked at the pictures he took, he said the infection from my tooth had spread to the bone in my jaw.” Mouse touched his jaw. “They had to send me to another doctor who gave me very strong medicine to get rid of the infection in the bone. It made me feel very sick. But it didn’t make the infection go away and they had to send me to another doctor to take out the infected piece of bone so the rest of my body could heal.”
In spite of himself, Little Bird’s mouth hung open as he listened to the story.
“They said if I hadn’t waited so long, I wouldn’t have gotten so sick. The infection would not have gotten into my bone. When the dentist was done, I would have been able to go home and feel better. Instead, I had to suffer through more sickness and medicine and surgery at the hospital.”
They looked at Little Bird. He swallowed hard and spoke to his mother. “I think I should go to the dentist.”
“I do too,” she agreed.
Little Bird took a long look at Mouse. “I will go.”
“Good man,” Mouse approved. “You are being brave and being wise about taking care of yourself. You will feel much better when the dentist fills your tooth.”
“Will the needle hurt a lot?”
“No. Just a little. And then he will make your whole face numb and you won’t be in pain anymore.”
Little Bird’s eyes turned to Nadie. “Will you go with me, Nadie?”
“You want me to?”
He nodded. Nadie looked at Mouse. “Would you take Luyu for a few minutes?”
“Sure.”
Nadie released Luyu from her grip directly into Mouse’s. “Hold onto her. Don’t let her wander.”
“I will.”
Nadie joined Little Bird and his mother as they walked to the dentist. In the waiting room, Nadie held Little Bird in her lap and recounted stories to keep his mind occupied. When it was time for him to go in, Little Bird went with his mother, looking over his shoulder once at Nadie as he went down the hall to the procedure room.
Nadie opened up a paperback to read as she waited. She didn’t get nearly as much reading time as she would like to, between school and chores and looking after Luyu’s needs. Quiet, unoccupied moments were rare and precious. She heard a man talking to the receptionist and glanced up to look at him. It was the dentist, one Nadie had seen several times herself. He hadn’t yet had time to work on Little Bird’s tooth. Nadie suspected he had put the freezing in and was just waiting for it to take effect before he started drilling.
He shook his head at the receptionist, giving a little grimace. “Stupid Indians,” he commented. “Don’t teach their kids anything about oral hygiene. Never bother to see a dentist until their teeth are practically falling out of their heads. It’s time to put an end to all this special treatment.”
The receptionist gave him a little shush, glancing at the people in the waiting room. He shook his head again and went back into his office.
Chapter Seven
Nadie had been working on her blanket during almost all of her school hours the past few days. The nights were getting colder and she wanted the special blanket to keep Luyu warm. It was soft and thick, painstakingly hand woven over a period of months. She had thought it would be done in early fall, not anticipating how many hours the careful hand work would take.
Mouse was glad to see her working on traditional craft work instead of her correspondence classes, and he sat with her, carving or doing other traditional men’s crafts while she worked on it. He never had much patience for a project and was rarely working on the same one from one day to the next, jumping from one to another like a frog.
Nadie had thought Running Deer would be worried about her abandoning her correspondence work temporarily to finish up the blanket, but she wasn’t. “I know you’ll pick it back up again,” she said. “You need a break. You work so hard. This will help you to get refreshed and refocused. You need to work on spiritual development too. This is good balance.”
Nadie did find the weaving helpful. In spite of her worries about Luyu’s care and the possibility of the social worker taking her away, Nadie was able to relax with the careful, repetitive work of weaving, finding a sort of quiet meditation even in the busy schoolroom.
The blanket had a red background, with a pattern of triangles and an owl in the middle, all of Nadie’s own design. Running Deer said it all counted toward her math—counting, patterns, triangle construction, and so on. It was a good thing it counted, because Nadie struggled with the complex math in her textbooks, floundering her way through the examples and copying the answer key when she couldn’t sort it out herself. But the blanket, that was good math. That she could understand.
Then finally, it was done. Nadie finished the edges and carefully folded the blanket into a compact rectangle, smoothing it with her hands.
“I can’t believe it’s done. It took so long to do!”
“You did a really good job,” Mouse said. “You are a lot more patient than I am. I could never do that.”
“You could if you worked on it.”
“Never,” Mouse repeated. “Not my kind of thing.”
“How are those furs coming along?” Nadie teased.
Mouse drew himself up, his neck stiffening. “I am working on it,” he insisted. “We had an agreement. I haven’t forgotten.”
“Really? What have you been doing?”
“I have been talking with the men, learning about where the animals go in the winter. Where the traplines are best. I have to make a frame and tools for working the hides, and I have been doing that. I have been practicing snares that will hold tight.”
“You have?” Nadie had seen him engaged in some of these activities, but had never put it all together to realize he was, in fact, working toward a bigger goal.
Mouse nodded, his chin lifted proudly. “I did not forget our agreement.”
“Well, it’s a good thing we made it for spring and not for when I was done my blanket.”
“Now you can start your second blanket. The one that is for me when I give you the furs.”
Nadie had forgotten about that part of the agreement. But she pretended not to have. “I’ll have the blanket done before the spring flowers bloom.”
She hoped it would be a long winter.
Nadie was excited to get home to give Luyu her gift. She tried to stay calm about it, reminding herself Luyu was only a little girl and couldn’t understand all of the work and love that had gone into the blanket. Luyu hated clothes and tended to kick off her blankets in bed, so she might not even like it. But Nadie pictured herself waiting until Luyu finally settled in to sleep and gently placing the blanket over her to keep her warm through the night. Even if Luyu didn’t like it, Nadie would still use it to keep her little sister from being cold.
She hurried home, arriving out of breath. The door was locked and she had to go looking for Grandfather. He was down in the cellar but came up at her call.
“Here I am, with the key,” he announced. “She was a little devil today. Getting into everything.”
“Maybe she’s coming down with something. She always seems to get sort of wild when she’s fighting a cold.”
He handed her the key. “Your blanket is done?” He was looking down at it.
Nadie’s face got warm and she couldn’t hold back a smile. “All done,” she confirmed. She took the edge and let it unfold, holding it up off of the floor so he could see the whole thing at once.
“Oh, Nadie… I’ve never seen such a beautiful blanket.”
Nadie almost teared up. She smiled more widely. “You like it?”
“It reminds me of your grandmother. She had the most wonderful gift in making blankets and beautiful things.” He touched the edge of the blanket with reverence. “You have put a piece of your spirit into this blanket. It is a thing of great value.”
Nadie couldn’t stop smiling. She tried to answer modestly. “It was a lot of work and I am still just learning. But I’m very pleased with the way it turned out.”
“You should be. I am very proud of you.”
Nadie nodded.
“Ôhô, the owl, has a very powerful spirit. It is a good symbol.”
“I want to give it to Luyu now.”
His smile faded. “She will not know to respect it, Nadie. She won’t know what value it has.”
“Its value is in keeping her warm. She can appreciate that until she gets old enough to understand.”
“Give her another blanket. Put this one on your bed. Or mine!”
“I made it for Luyu. That’s who it is meant for,” Nadie said firmly.
Grandfather made no further protest. Nadie draped the blanket back over her arm and went to get Luyu.
When the door opened, Luyu looked up from the floor where she was prodding a dustball that looked suspiciously like a spider. She got up and stared at the blanket. She lifted up her arms for it.
“Lu see?”
Nadie crouched down to put it into Luyu’s hands and stretched it out for her to see.
“Oh!” Luyu crawled across the blanket to the owl and put her hand over it. She lay down on the blanket, resting her cheek on the owl’s face. “Luyu,” she said. “Mine.”
“Yes,” Nadie laughed. “Luyu’s blanket. This is ôhô, the owl. He will watch over you while you sleep. An owl stays awake at night. Like you think you should!”
Luyu reached behind her and grabbed the blanket, pulling it over herself so she was cocooned inside like a sleeping bag.
“Ay-hay,” Nadie heard Luyu say softly.
“You’re welcome, baby. But it’s not time for sleep. Do you want to come out and have some supper?”
Luyu crept out from between the folds, her eyes sparkling. “Eat?”
“That’s right. Time to eat.”
Luyu ran to Nadie and gave her a hug, then ran into the kitchen. Nadie followed her. There was more food now, including fresh produce. It wouldn’t last, but for a few days, there were crisp, fragrant fruits and vegetables that made Nadie’s mouth water every time she walked into the kitchen. Used to her limited fare of canned beans, macaroni, and cold cereal, Luyu tended to turn her nose up at the healthier food. But Nadie kept offering it to her for as long as it lasted. She worried about getting enough vitamins into Luyu’s diet.
Nadie cut up an apple and arranged the small pieces into a smile on Luyu’s plate. Luyu poked at it for a few minutes before picking up a piece with her left hand. Nadie’s forehead creased. She looked down at Luyu’s other hand. Two of her fingers were dusky and purple.
“What happened to your hand, Luyu?”
Luyu looked down at it, nibbling at the apple piece. She put the swollen fingers in her mouth and sucked on them.
“Did you shut them in the door, Lu? What happened?”
Luyu shook her head.
“Grandfather?”
He didn’t come into the room. “What, Nadie?”
“How did Luyu’s hand get hurt? Did something happen?”
“She’s been in all kinds of mischief today. It could have happened any time.”
“You don’t know? You didn’t see?” Nadie went to the kitchen doorway so she would be closer and hear Grandfather better.
“I told you it could have happened any time.”
Nadie bit her lip and went back to the table. Luyu pushed the pieces of fruit around. “Mmm, dinner?” Luyu asked.
“Have your apple, I’ll make something else while you’re eating it.”
She started a pot of water boiling and turned back around to face Luyu.
“How did you hurt your fingers?”
Luyu looked at her.
“You have an owie on your fingers?”
Luyu held them up.
“How did Lu get the owie?”
Luyu looked toward the doorway as if waiting for Grandfather to answer.
“You tell me, Luyu. How did you get the owie on your fingers?”
Luyu didn’t respond.
“Do you remember getting the bump on your head? How did you bump your head?”
Luyu again looked toward the doorway. Nadie sighed and continued to get her dinner ready.
Chapter Eight
Nadie had a feeling something was wrong when she walked into the house. It felt too quiet. Empty. It didn’t make any sense and she shook off the feeling of unease.
It had been a long day at school. She had spent several days trying to get caught back up on her correspondence work at school, now she was done Luyu’s blanket, but she was floundering. She was good at the reading portions of the English Language Arts work, but the math and history sections boggled her mind. She attempted to do the math, copying out one line of the answer key at a time, trying to solve each step on her own before copying out the next line.
The history and government work was almost as incomprehensible. Even though she understood the words used to describe parliamentary procedures and passing of bills, she had no idea what any of it meant. The history work mostly chronicled wars overseas, in faraway places Nadie would never see. They were dry facts with dates and maps, as if the wars had been fought on paper and never touched human lives. When she did come across chapters on Canadian history, particularly those that touched on contact with her people, she felt a little sick.
She had once heard ‘history is written by the victors,’ and that seemed particularly apt. Battles where hundreds of Nehiyaw and other aboriginal nations were killed were glossed over. The settlement of the country by the French and English, rolling out east to west was related as if those lands had been vacant, free for the taking. Treaties were related as if the First Nations were full partners, voluntarily giving up their rights and freedoms.
As Nadie penned answers that echoed the reading sections in the text, she felt like she was betraying her people. She wanted to get full points for her answers, so she said what the white men and women who sat at their desks in the city wanted to hear. She wanted to write about the poverty and oppression. About the her peoples’ generosity repaid with smallpox-infected blankets. About children ripped from their homes and sent to residential schools where they were starved and abused, punished if caught speaking their own language.
But she didn’t.
Nadie walked into the kitchen to get herself a drink of cool water before going to get Luyu. It was a surprisingly warm day for the end of the fall. She’d have to make sure Luyu had enough to drink and didn’t get dehydrated after being shut in a stifling warm room all day. Or however long Grandfather had left her there.
Grandfather wasn’t in his bedroom or the living room. Nadie tried the door handle of the baby room. Not only was it not locked, but the catch hadn’t engaged, and the door swung open at her touch. Nadie’s breath caught in her throat.
