A Cold White Fear (12 page)

I
'd
barely absorbed the implication of the guards' murders when the biker hauled me from the armchair and dragged me across the carpet to the dining room chair, kicking the boxes of ornaments aside. I was too stunned to resist.

“Sit,” he ordered.

I sat.

I gritted my teeth to keep from crying out as my arms were wrenched almost out of their sockets when he pulled them around the back of the chair. Gripping my wrists together, he ordered Jid to tie them.

“Rope no good,” he muttered. “You got zip ties?”

I held my breath, worried the boy would mention the ones lying in a pantry drawer. We'd used them yesterday to attach the Christmas lights to the verandah railing. But thankfully the boy remained mute while he finished tying my hands. He left the rope slightly loose so I might be able to work my hands free, something I couldn't have done with zip ties.
Thank you, Jid.

But my hopes were short-lived when the Serb started wrapping the rope around my upper body, melding me to the back of the chair. Every time he ran the rope over my chest, he made a point of running his hand over my breasts. I tried my hardest not to flinch. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was unnerving me.

I strained to hear Professor's footsteps coming down the hall. I'd expected to see the man coming through the door behind the Serbian. But so far there was no sign of him.

“Jid, could you go find Professor?” I asked.

“Stay here, kid,” Slobodan ordered. “Hold her feet.”

I had a moment's panic when he whipped out Eric's knife and pointed it straight at me. But he was only interested in cutting the rope behind my back. He started wrapping the remaining length around my ankles, cinching it very tightly, so tightly I could feel it biting through my scratchy wool socks.

“Ouch, that hurts. Could you loosen it, please?”

“Shut up.” He tugged it tighter.

“Professor!” Larry's voice rang out with more strength than I thought he had in him. “Could you come here a minute?”

“What's up, little buddy?” came the answer from the direction of the living room.

“I need you.” Larry flashed a smug smile at the Serbian, who merely grunted.

The biker was just finishing cutting the rope around my feet when the tattooed man stepped into the room.

“Professor, she's good people,” Larry said. “She doesn't need to be tied up.” He turned imploring eyes in my direction. “Promise them you won't run away.”

But before I could answer, Professor said, “Nope. She can't be trusted. Slobo, tie the kid up too.”

It was the Serbian's turn to gloat.

Within minutes, Jid was trussed up as securely as I was on another chair brought in from the dining room. They'd placed us side by side about a foot apart and within the circle of the fire's warmth, which I thought was considerate of them. Except they forgot to add more logs before the two of them left us alone once again with Larry.

I tried wriggling my hands, but I couldn't get much movement with the ropes tied around my arms. I thought if I managed to loosen them even a smidgen, my fingers might be able to make their way through the opening at the back of the chair to reach the razor blades in my back jean pocket, so I kept working them.

“You okay, Jid?”

“Yup.”

“The ropes aren't too tight?”

“Kinda. I can't feel my hands.”

“That's not good.” But when I looked over to check on his hands, I saw faint arm movement going on behind his back. He waved his head in the direction of Larry to tell me this was his way of putting the man off.

“Good luck,” I mouthed, then turned to see Larry watching both of us.

“They shouldna oughta done that,” he said. “It ain't no way to treat a lady.”

“Why don't you untie us?” I whispered.

“Can't.” He turned his face away and closed his eyes.

“When's Shome coming?” Jid asked, lowering his voice so only I could hear him.

“Not for another two days,” I whispered back.
If he comes at all
, I thought to myself, not wanting to let Jid know that all was not well between his hero and me. “When's your aunt coming home for Christmas?”

“I think it's Thursday, too. I guess Juicy won't come looking for me if I miss tomorrow night's game, eh?”

I didn't think his cousin would come either. He'd be happy to have another night free from babysitting.

“We're going to get you to that game, you hear,” I persisted. “They have someone coming to get them tomorrow.”

“Yah, I know.” He paused and focused his brown eyes wide with trust at me. “They're gonna kill us, aren't they?”

For a second it took me aback that he, a child, should come to the same conclusion. Children shouldn't have to worry about death. But he could read their intent as well as I. “I don't know. If there is a way we can get out of here alive, we're going to find it, okay?”

“Okay,” he answered but with little optimism.

“Don't worry,” Larry piped up. “I'll make sure Professor don't hurt you. And he'll make sure Tiger don't either.”

“Thanks, Larry. But are you sure you can do that? They won't want any witnesses.”

“But you don't know where we're going after. So you can't rat on us. Besides, Professor owes me.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I saved his bacon once.”

“What did you do?”

“It happened shortly after Professor got sent up.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Two years. He's up for parole next year.”

“It doesn't make sense risking a longer sentence by escaping. So why did he do it?”

“They want him — no, I better say nothing. Better you don't know.” He clamped his mouth shut and turned his face away from me.

I waited for him to continue and when he didn't, I asked, “Why do you say Professor owes you?”

“He got into a fight with a guy. And, well, the guy died.”

“You mean another prisoner.”

“Yah, a booty bandit. He was trying to make the moves on me, and well, Professor protected me. So I lied to the hacks and said it was self-defence. I told them it was the dead guy who attacked Professor with the shank, but Professor was lucky and got it away from him.”

“Shank?”

“That's a knife, Auntie. Everyone knows that,” Jid answered.

“How do you know?”

“TV.”

“Right, all those cop shows you watch.”

“Did he make it from a fork?”

“No, used his usual, a razor blade stuck into the end of a toothbrush,” Larry replied.

“Cool.”

“Professor's a knife man. That's his trade.”

“He makes knives?” I asked, which earned me a groan from Jid.

“Okay, wrong question.” Deciding I didn't want to know more, I continued, “So as a result nothing bad happened to Professor?”

“They coulda extended his sentence or sent him to maximum, but they didn't. Though they put him in the hole for a week.”

“Hole?”

“Solitary. After that, me and Professor were buddies.”

T
he
murmur of voices drifted down the hall from the living room. I wondered what Professor and the Serb were up to. Despite Professor's protestations, they were likely doing an inventory of all the items they planned to steal. I doubted they'd left jail with any money, so they'd need something to pay their way. The Serb might not recognize the value of the small cigar box painting hanging next to the fireplace, but Professor would know it was a Tom Thomson worth enough to get them well beyond the reach of the cops. But as long as Jid and I got out of this alive, I didn't care what they took. Maybe I could use these treasures, even my great-grandmother's silver tea service, to guarantee our safety.

“Ending up in prison for tax evasion is a long way from teaching at McGill,” I said to Larry. “His taxes would have been deducted from his paycheque, so where does the tax evasion come in?” I watched embers fly up the chimney from a sudden gust. “He must've had another source of income. Do you know?”

“You'd better ask him. He don't like people talking about him, eh?” The injured man didn't seem to be trembling as much as earlier, but his nose continued to flow. Occasionally he'd brush it away with his fingers or Eric's sweater, but mostly he ignored it.

“What about the snake tattoos? Hardly the kind I'd imagine a university would want for one of its professors.”

“He weren't working there anymore. But I think he got the tattoos before he left. He's got this thing for snakes, eh?”

“All over his body?”

“Good a place as any, I guess. Some guys call him the Viper. He likes that. But me, I like Professor. It's more like who he is. I've learned a lot from him, eh?”

“Like what?” I asked.

“I don't got much of an education. Never went to high school, but Professor, he been teaching me. Says I'll soon know enough to get my diploma, eh?” He eased himself into a sitting position. “Jid, you better be going to school. Indian kids like you need an education, else you end up like me.”

“Yeah, I go to school.”

“Smart kid like you, I bet you're in grade six.”

“Nope, grade eight. I skipped.”

“Wow, that's terrific. I never made it past grade six.”

“Why not?”

“My dad made me go trapping with him. Didn't want me moving to Somerset.”

“Why would you have to go to Somerset?”

“You're from Migiskan, eh? Ain't that where you have to go to school after grade six?”

“Nope, I go to school on the rez.”

“You gonna do high school there too?”

“Yup, all the way to grade eleven.”

“So they built a school on the rez. Ain't you the lucky one.”

“I guess.”

“Take it from me, you are. They didn't treat us Indians too good in that white school in Somerset. Most of my buddies left after only a couple of years.”

“This new one is a very good school,” I said. “My husband was instrumental in getting it built. About ten years ago I think.”

“Who's your husband?”

“Eric Odjik. He was Migiskan band chief for almost twelve years.”

“Yeah, I remember the guy. He didn't think much of me. Chased me off the rez.”

Just what we needed. Would Larry protect us now?

He chuckled. I looked up to see him grinning. “Yeah. I deserved it. I was a real scumbag. My girlfriend kicked me out too.”

“What did you do?”

“I hung around with some pretty bad apples. They were into all sorts of shit. 'Cause of my size, they'd get me to go into houses through windows and stuff like that. I'd open the door so they could get inside and take stuff, mostly booze, but they also took TVs, microwaves, shit like that. One of the guys knew a fence in Ottawa.”

“I guess you got caught.”

From the corner of my eye I could see Jid working away on loosening his ropes.

“Sort of. I got stuck in a really small window. The other guys took off and left me there. The house belonged to your guy, Eric. When he got home he found me. Gave me a big lecture about going straight, then sent me home with a warning to get new friends. I was only sixteen. I guess Eric figured there was something worth saving.”

“It sounds like something he would do.”

“Yeah, he said I needed a chance to smarten up. Said I'd had a tough childhood. See, my dad used to beat me up when he got drunk. Said if I didn't act like a man he was gonna beat it into me. Anyways, your guy Eric got me playing hockey at the rec centre. Said it was good for building character.”

Jid perked up. “What position did you play? Offense?”

“Yeah, the only position for a little guy like me. But you know what? I was pretty good at it. I was a fast skater. The big guys couldn't catch me. And I was good at scoring goals.”

Jid smiled. “Me too.”

“You keep playing hockey, you hear. Don't give it up like I did. My dad made me quit. He and Eric got into a big shouting match. Eric wanted me to go to school. He was going to pay for my lodgings in town. See, he'd made all this money playing hockey.” He glanced over at Jid. “But I guess you know that, eh?”

“He was one of the best players and one of the first Indians to make it big in the NHL. They used to call him Lightning Odjik, because he was so fast.” Jid beamed.

“Never heard that name before, but it fits. Anyways, my old man refused. He pulled me out of hockey and made me go trapping with him. I was gone all winter. When I got back to the rez, hockey was finished for the season. My buddies wanted me to do another job. So I did.”

“What did you do to make Eric kick you off the rez?” I asked.

“He kept trying to get me to do stuff at the rec centre, but I wasn't interested. My buddies said only sissies hung around the place. I made sure I never got caught stealing again. But a couple of my buddies got caught and got sent up. Eric caught me giving some weed to a bunch of kids. He was real mad at me. Threatened to turn me in to the cops if I didn't tell him who the dealers were. So I did. He told me to leave the rez and never come back. I guess he'd given up on me by then.” He sighed. “Wished I'd listened to him instead of my buddies. Never woulda ended up in the pen. I figured the dealer set me up.”

“What do you mean?”

“When the guy discovered I'd squealed on him, he got his buddies to frame me. No way I killed that guy. But I'll never know. You see, I'd been drinking. Had too much and passed out. Professor thinks maybe they gave me something.”

He lapsed into silence, staring at the fire. The wind continued to remind us that the blizzard was far from slowing down. The air wafting in from the hall seemed to have dropped a few degrees. I could feel coldness nibbling at my hands and ankles. Soon it would start to penetrate my clothes.

Larry shook himself away from his thoughts and turned back to us. “You guys getting cold? The fire's getting kinda low.”

“Why don't you get Professor to put some logs on?” I replied.

“Nah, I can do it.”

“Be careful. You don't want to make your injury worse.”

“No problem. Don't hurt so much now.”

He winced as he raised himself very slowly from the couch. Pressing his hands into his side, he shuffled over to the brass firewood rack leaning against the fireplace. He gingerly lifted one of the shorter logs and placed it on top of the coals. This he repeated a couple more times before shambling back to the sofa and collapsing with a painful groan.

“Man, that don't feel so hot. Guess I won't be practising judo any time soon, eh?”

“Wow, you know judo?” Jid asked.

“Yeah, something I picked up inside. Professor said I needed to defend myself. Said judo would be good, especially for someone my size.” He glanced over at Jid. “I bet the bullies on the rez pick on you 'cause you're small, eh?”

“They used to, until Shome showed me a few tricks he learned playing hockey.”

“I guess you mean Eric. He your grandpa?”

“Nope. I just call him Shome.”

“Good. A kid needs someone to look up to and to keep you on the straight and narrow. I weren't so lucky. My
mishomis
was a drunk and died when I was little.”

“I don't have any real grandpas either. One died before I was born and the other ran away and never came back. I guess he's dead now. Do you have your black belt?”

“Not yet. I got my green belt. Only two more
kyu
to go before I get the black.” He picked away at some loose threads in the blanket, unravelling them more. “I've probably killed any chance of that happening now. The warden don't take kindly to escapees.”

“You're never going to have to deal with the warden again, little buddy,” Professor said, leaning against the doorframe. “You're not going to get caught. Neither of us are. We're free, you hear?”

“If you say so, Professor.”