Motorcycles & Sweetgrass (17 page)

Sound usually travels excellently over still water. So Dakota too had heard the thumping sound of the music and had decided to investigate. And there was John, on the dock, dancing. She had taken some dance classes and was familiar with the basic moves of modern jazz and tap. This was different, however. This was… like what she had seen at those powwows Virgil had dragged her to. She watched the stranger for almost half an hour, marvelling at his endurance, talent and inspiration. Dakota could have watched all night, but John eventually slowed and then stopped.

She didn’t see Virgil hiding in the bushes. She had eyes only for the stranger with the motorcycle. While her cousin was slinking back home, worried and confused, Dakota continued to watch, comfortably perched on the dock’s edge. She saw the stranger take his clothes off and dive into the water. She knew that watching
him do this was yet another thing her parents would have been upset about, but she saw it as no different than looking at that big statue of a naked man they had over in Italy.

Several times John disappeared beneath the dark water for long periods, and the last time, she was sure she’d lost him. Dakota was dangerously close to calling 911 when she saw him haul himself quickly out of the water onto the dock. Breathing a sigh of relief, she continued to watch as he stretched, dried and dressed himself. Slowly. It was a cool spring night but she didn’t feel the temperature going down.

“Dakota? What are you doing out there?” her father called from the house.

Her heart in her throat, Dakota put the binoculars back in their case, albeit reluctantly, and got to her feet. “Nothing, Dad, I’ll be right in.”

Across the water came the sound of the motorcycle starting up. Dakota wondered if John Clayton did this dancing every night. Virgil had been right about one thing: this sure was one interesting guy—though in reality Virgil had used the word “weird.” Dakota felt justified in substituting her own variation of the word.

Tonight the music travelled over the still water all the way to Wayne’s Island, several kilometres away. He was doing upside-down push-ups at the time. He recognized the traditional drum sound instantly, as its bass sound travelled better. He had to strain harder to pick up the guitar and organ. At first, he thought it was coming from one of those pesky houseboats that always tried to moor near his island at night. Those houseboaters played the
most god-awful selection of music, everything from Britney Spears to Brahms.

But this music was different. Landing on his feet, Wayne made his way to the shore, curious and eager to investigate. Thank god for the bright moon. The music seemed to be coming from near where one of his sisters lived. Maybe it was that son of hers, what’s-his-name… Vinnie… Virgin… Virgil, that was it.

He didn’t wear his watch anymore—there was little point to it out here—but he would have guessed it was close to ten o’clock, too late for that volume. He hoped the police would throw the little bugger in jail or something. Meanwhile, he needed his sleep. You never know what tomorrow might bring, and part of his training was always to be prepared. Like a Boy Scout, but with attitude.

The music, still reverberating in his mind, followed him up to his cabin. And by the time it stopped, Wayne was fast asleep.

THIRTEEN

Charley’s Bar was pretty quiet that night, what with it being midweek and all. There were maybe a dozen people scattered about the bar. The only ruckus was coming from four vivacious and loud Native women sitting near the back. Maggie was having a great time, as were Marie, Theresa and Elvira.

“Geez, he’s good looking,” said Elvira, after Maggie finished telling the story of the dinner. Everybody agreed with Elvira’s description of John. Whether at the funeral, or just driving around the village, he’d been spotted by each of them. Consensus had been reached.

“And he just up and left? Just like that?” Marie was trying to decipher the meaning of John’s sudden departure from her sister’s home.

“Just like that.” Maggie snapped her fingers.

All four sat in silence for a few seconds, pondering, before Elvira offered her theory. “Maybe your cooking gave him the runs.”

They all burst into laughter. Aside from the sound of vintage Guns ‘n’ Roses pouring forth from the jukebox, their talk and laughter were the only sounds in the place. The other patrons were busy staring into their beers, trying to find inspiration or explanation for their lives.

“It had something to do with his giving the impression he could understand Anishnawbe. That’s what set him off,” Maggie explained. They contemplated that possibility. Then she added, “Or maybe I caught him in a lie.”

“A man who lies? I didn’t know they existed,” Elvira said, raising her beer. Theresa and Marie joined the toast, laughing. “But what a strange thing to lie about,” she added.

Theresa emptied her beer. “Men don’t need a reason. They just need an opportunity. Maggie, don’t tell me we have to retrain you. They’re just like politicians…”

An awkward silence followed, as Marie and Elvira glanced back and forth between Theresa and Maggie. Then Theresa clued in.

“Oh fuck, Maggie. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything… I didn’t mean you. I really didn’t. Okay, I’m cut off.” She slid her half-filled beer glass over to Elvira.

“Why?” said Maggie. “You are absolutely right. And male politicians… a lot of talk, very little action. Sound familiar?”

Once more the room was filled with raucous laughter. Several of the regular customers glanced over at the women, who seemed to be having far too much fun.

“Ladies, I am telling you this here and now. I have an announcement,” Maggie said.

Elvira was first. “You’re marrying John.”

Marie was next. “You’re pregnant with John’s baby.”

This earned a scolding look from Maggie. “After one night? And we didn’t even kiss. He ran out, remember? No wonder your grandparents had fourteen kids, if it’s that easy to get pregnant in your family.”

“Ah, but I think the more important question is… if he’d asked, would you have?” Theresa said.

Maggie looked confused. “Would I have… what? I don’t understand.”

The others found this deliriously funny. And since all three of them only laughed at such a high decibel when discussing sex, Maggie quickly got the inference.

“Oh god, on a first date? And it wasn’t even a date. I
told
you, it was a thank-you dinner.”

“Well, that’s one way of saying thank you.” More laughter.

“If I may finish,” said a slightly embarrassed Maggie. “My announcement is that this, I think, is my last term as chief. I am out of here, as of next June.”

“But… come on, Maggie. Why?” asked Elvira.

“I’m tired of it all. Of the bureaucracy. The paperwork. This stupid land thing. Of not being there for Virgil. Of not having a personal life anymore. I could go on. I think I’ve done my bit for Otter Lake. Time for somebody else to step up to bat.” She hoisted her beer high above the table. “I rediscovered the other night that I like cooking. To cooking again!”

The others raised their beer in a toast, though not nearly as enthusiastically.

“Oh, Maggie, it’s been so nice to have a woman in office up there.”

Elvira seconded Marie’s opinion. “Yeah, it really has been. Cooking’s overrated. I know. I do it every day.”

“My mom wasn’t happy with me taking this job anyway,” Maggie said, her decisive tone fading.

“Mom wasn’t happy with me dying my hair, Maggie,” said Marie. “She had her ways, and we have ours. I loved her deeply, but the world she was raised in is long gone. Maggie, you got in with a 137-vote lead over Michael. That’s pretty substantial.”

“But everybody keeps grumbling about the land appropriation and what we should do with it. Nobody seems to be happy with what I’m doing.”

Theresa put her hand on Maggie’s wrist. “But what
are
you doing? Anyway, you know Otter Lake. Grumbling is our third language. Hell, I grumble about my husband more than his first wife did, but I wouldn’t change him for the world.”

They were all silent for a moment. Then Maggie spoke. “You know, I had the rest of my life figured out before I came here. Thanks, guys. Now I’m back where I began. I think I need another beer. Yo, Karl, another round for me and my ladies.”

Karl, the bartender, nodded, thinking to himself,
Oh good, another buck in my pocket. I left the Czech Republic for
this
?

“Hey, Maggie, what was it like, riding on his bike? In his lap?”

“Oh, come on, Elvira, you seem more obsessed with him than I could be. You’ve ridden on a motorcycle before.”

“Not like that one, with somebody like that. Andy, who owned that Honda 750, did
not
look like your John. My compliments.”

“First of all, he’s not
my
John. It was just dinner. How many times do I have to say that? Second, who knows if I’ll ever see him again? If any of us will. Anybody who shows up out of nowhere could disappear just as quickly.”

Theresa leaned forward. “But the important question is, do you
want
to see him again?” The other three nodded conspiratorially. “Maybe he wants to be thanked again, hold the food.”

“If you don’t want a guy like that, one who’s obviously interested in you, Maggie, then maybe there is something seriously wrong with you. Possible lie or not. I’d accept a few lies if they came from a face and body like that. God, you could forgive a man like that a few mistakes.” Elvira seemed to be speaking from experience.

“Listen to you all. You are terrible. Ladies, I do believe you are infatuated with the man more than I am. If he shows up again, I will deal with it. Is that understood?” Maggie took a defiant drink from her beer.

Marie eyed her sister. “Sounds like the chief in you coming out.”

“I’m sure I’m not the first chief to sit in a bar, surrounded by nosy women.”

“Does that include strippers?” Theresa asked. More giggles.

“Uh, Maggie…” Elvira seemed distracted by something behind Maggie. “What you were saying about dealing with it later if he shows up…”

“Yes?”

“Well, you’d better get the cards out and start dealing stud, because I do believe that’s your motorcycle man coming through the front door. If it’s not, somebody out there is having a sale on them.”

Her heart suddenly pounding, Maggie turned around to see John standing near the front door, once more in his leathers, the blue bandana tied around his neck this time, scouting the place. Then he saw her, and the ladies.

“What the hell is he doing here?” she asked.

“Who gives a fuck,” whispered Marie, “as long as he’s here.” Then louder, “Hey, you with the big hog, we’re over here.”

“Marie!” Maggie was mortified.

“What? We want to meet him.”

“Oh yeah,” Maggie’s other two friends echoed.

They watched as John negotiated the mostly deserted tables and made his way over to them.

“Ladies. How are we tonight?”

Theresa answered for them all. “Better now. A lot better.”

“What are you doing here?” asked Maggie.

“Just out seeing the town, stretching my legs. If you can do that on a motorcycle. And lo and behold, here you are.”

All four checked out his leather-clad legs.

“I thought you didn’t drink,” said Maggie.

“I don’t, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’m not a woman but I could still wear a bra and panties if I wanted. I suppose.” He followed this with a smile.

“Okay.” Marie got her laughter in check and cleared her throat. “Uh, why don’t you… join us?”

“Yes. Do. Please.” Elvira pulled up a cigarette-burned chair for the man.

“Thank you. Don’t mind if I do. My name’s John.”

One by one, each of the ladies introduced themselves, extending their hand to shake and, for however brief a period, touch the young man’s warm, strong hand. And one by one, each of the ladies felt sure John had given her a special little squeeze and slight caress he hadn’t given to the other women at the table.

As he sat down, he was aware that four sets of eyes were watching him closely, three with a fresh eagerness. He had theorized Maggie would be here. It was the local “Indian” bar, and he’d seen the car full of ladies driving along the Beer Bay Road as he was setting up for his evening dance on the dock. With the car rocking with laughter, they were definitely hard to miss. He had put two and two together, and had decided to investigate after dancing. Knowing Virgil wouldn’t be at the bar, it had seemed like a good idea.