Speak to the Earth (11 page)

Bryan had immediately been suspicious. His uncle was probably the last person on the planet to be interested in joining any group, unless it was organized around the dart board at the hotel, but he decided to go along anyway, just to keep Jimmy company. His uncle had even dressed up for the occasion in a white shirt with his favourite bolo tie — a raven’s head carved in pewter — clean jeans and polished cowboy boots. They left Iris bent over the fax machine, programming it to send out long-distance faxes during the night when the rates were low, and went out into a light drizzle.

Bryan knew that the logo on the truck’s rusted front
quarter panel read “V8,” but Jimmy claimed there were only six working pistons, one doubtful, and one just going around for the ride. Jimmy turned the ignition key, uttering a prayer that was only slightly sacrilegious. The twelve-year-old engine burped once, laid down a smoky backfire and rumbled to life.

The meeting was held in the community centre, in the same room where Iris had recently told off the judge. Already the brightly lit room was active. About thirty men and women milled around, talking and drinking from white plastic cups. Bryan noted the trestle tables laden with aluminum beer kegs, bottles of wine and platters of sandwiches cut into dainty quarters with no crust. In the centre of one table a huge smoked sockeye rested in a bed of lettuce, surrounded by cracked Dungeness crabs.

Jimmy let out a low whistle. “Wonder who sprung for all these goodies?”

They stood uneasily in the centre of the room, neither of them comfortable in large gatherings. Bryan was already sorry he had come.

“Go on over there and grab some of that food, Bry, before it all goes bad.”

“Hey, Jimmy! Glad you could make it.”

They turned to see a man with a ruddy complexion bearing down on them, a foam-topped cup in one hand and a sandwich in the other.

“Hi, Scotty,” Jimmy greeted him. “How’s it goin’? Bryan, meet Scott Weatherby, my foreman.”

The big man’s blue blazer stretched tight across powerful shoulders when he shook hands.

“Good turnout tonight, eh, Jimmy? Let’s get you a beer. Bryan, help yourself. I know you young fellas have a hollow leg.”

A hollow leg? Bryan thought resentfully as he left them. He piled a few sandwiches on a foam plate, careful to avoid the ones made with chopped egg or the salmon salad. He took a cola from a tub of ice.

He scanned the crowd. They were working people, and some of them he recognized from around town. He was the only kid in the room. Great, he thought, hoping Jimmy would soon get bored and offer to leave. With nothing to do, he rejoined his uncle, who stood with a beer in hand, talking to Scott Weatherby.

“… probably wondering what this is all about,” Weatherby was saying.

“Yeah.”

Noticing Bryan, the foreman asked, “Uh, can you excuse us for a minute, Bryan?”

Bryan’s face flushed. “Sorry.” He turned away.

“No, stay here, Bry,” Jimmy said. Then to Weatherby, “He’s all right, Scotty.”

“Well,” the big man went on, “we’re going to start up a chapter of
SAVE
here in Talbot Inlet, and I figured you’d want to get in on it.”

“
SAVE
?” Jimmy’s brow creased, emphasizing the jagged line of his stitched wound.

“Yup. There’s chapters all over the province now.
See, a lot of us in town figure that in all this controversy about logging the sound, the average man, like you and me, hasn’t got no voice. I mean, we hear a lot of noise from the politicians, the corporations and the radicals — er” — he looked at Bryan — “the activists — no disrespect for your mom intended there, Bryan. They’re in the papers and on TV all the time. Can’t get away from them.” He pushed the remains of a sandwich into his mouth and talked while he chewed. “But where’s the ordinary citizen at? Who’s speaking for us?” He took a swallow from his cup of beer.

“I see what you mean,” Jimmy said.

So do I, thought Bryan, although he wondered, if his mother wasn’t an ordinary citizen, who was?

“Don’t get me wrong, Jimmy,” Weatherby continued, as if reading Bryan’s thoughts, “I’m not bad-mouthing people like Iris. I disagree with her, of course, and to tell you the gods’ honest truth I wish her and her group would cease and desist, but she’s got a right to her opinion. It’s just that us people, you and me, who work in the bush and make our living from the bush, we don’t have nobody speaking for us. See what I mean?”

Jimmy nodded. “That’s for damn sure.”

“SAVE organized the counter-demonstration out at the Big Bear not long ago.” Weatherby said, beaming.

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yup, came up with the yellow ribbon idea, too.” He grinned. “We even got a theme song.”

Bryan now felt like a spy. His throat went dry and his
interest in the four sandwiches remaining on his plate suddenly evaporated. Did Scotty know that Bryan had been at the demonstration, when Iris had been arrested that day? He gulped down some of his cola and began to edge away.

“Come on,” Weatherby said cheerfully, “there’s somebody I want you to meet. You come, too, Bryan. You’ll both like this guy.”

He led them across the room to a small group of men gathered around one of the beer kegs.

“Charlie,” Weatherby addressed a man who, dressed in a suit and tie, looked out of place in the group. “Meet a good friend of mine. Charlie Tanaka, Jimmy Lormer and Bryan Troupe.”

Good friend? wondered Bryan. Tanaka’s hand was smooth as he shook with Bryan. He hasn’t cut too many trees lately, Bryan thought.

“Hello, Jimmy. How’s the arm?” Tanaka said.

“Fine, fine.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Jimmy asked.

“Born in Delta. My parents still operate a small farm there. Scotty here has told me a lot about you.”

“He has?”

Bryan wondered how Weatherby could have told Tanaka much, since he hardly knew his uncle. He looked at Jimmy and decided his uncle was riding this out to see where it would lead.

“Did Scotty fill you in on what’s happening here
tonight?” Tanaka asked.

“Sort of.”

“Well, a number of communities here on the island — Port Albert and Nanaimo, to name two — have established SAVE chapters so that citizens who depend on the forestry for their livelihood have a voice. We know that on this side of the island there are a few communities that are beset by the activists, and nobody is asking
their
opinion. Right now, the noise is all coming from one place. We want to, as it were, even the scales, to make sure the public gets a balanced view. That’s the key word here,” Tanaka emphasized, smiling. “Balance.”

“I see.”

Tanaka’s calm voice was convincing. He’s right, Bryan thought, but things are sort of “balanced” at Norm’s B&B too, and it still isn’t a lot of fun living there right now.

“Uh-huh,” Jimmy said. “You’re right. Nothing wrong with balance. I mean, everybody ought to be heard, I guess.”

“Scotty here suggested, and I wholeheartedly agree,” Tanaka went on, “that you’d be the perfect man to head up the Talbot Inlet chapter of SAVE.”

Jimmy flushed. “Me?”

“Who’s better qualified?” Scotty spoke up. “You’ve worked in the bush all your life. You were injured in the line of duty.”

The line of duty? Bryan thought.

Jimmy looked down into his cup of beer. “Well … I
don’t know if I’d have the time. I could help out, sure, I could give you an hour or so a day, but …”

Bryan knew that his uncle was a man who felt at home in his own sphere. Give him a job to do with his hands and he was full of confidence and purpose. But outside his realm, he lost all composure. Confronted by a person with education or wealth or power, Jimmy headed the other way.

“Oh,” Tanaka said almost casually, “this would take a bit more of your time than that.” He smiled again. Bryan realized Tanaka could turn the smile on and off at will.

“Then I don’t see …,” Jimmy stumbled. “I mean, I gotta look for work. If I can’t find anything here, I figured I’d try Nanaimo, so —”

“That’s just it,” Scotty said. “You get a salary, Jimmy. You wouldn’t have to look for work no more. Which, if you don’t mind my saying, you might have some trouble getting a job, what with your arm and all.”

“A salary? This is a paying position?”

Bryan could guess at what was going on in his uncle’s head. His humiliation at being out of work once more — even if it was an injury that caused his unemployment — struggling with his self-consciousness about accepting a job that might require paperwork, talking to people on the phone, organizing.

Turning on the smile once again, Tanaka put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “Yes, it is, Jimmy. You’d be the chairman. You’d be in charge.”

Jimmy was silent He tipped up his cup and drained
it, wiping the wisp of foam from his upper lip.

“Here, let me fill that up for you, Mr Chairman,” Scotty said, taking the cup.

“Do you mind if I ask how much you were earning before you got hurt?” Tanaka asked.

Bryan could see the invisible weight rising from Jimmy’s shoulders. A job. No more depending on his sister. Maybe turn that damn truck in on a newer model, one with an engine that didn’t sound like someone was shaking a can of nails. His uncle told Tanaka his wage.

“I daresay we could match that.”

“That’s very generous.” Bryan could hear the surprise in Jimmy’s voice.

“Not at all. We need someone like you. What do you say? Willing to give it a try?”

“Yeah, I … uh, I could try it. See if I could manage.”

“Wonderful.”

Scotty handed Jimmy a brimming cup.

“There’s just one thing, Jimmy,” Tanaka said. “If you were to take this job on, would you be living in the same place?”

“The same place?” Jimmy looked at Scotty, then back to Tanaka. The two men waited.

“He means,” Bryan said stiffly, “would you still be living with Mom.”

“You understand,”Scotty said hastily, scowling at Bryan, “it’s nothing against Iris, Jimmy. Like I said earlier, I — we — respect her point of view and all —”

“Of course we do,” Tanaka said smoothly.

“Well,” Jimmy faltered. “I was sort of planning to get a place of my own, anyway, soon as I could put some cash together.”

“If you need a little advance, that’s no problem,” Tanaka said. “We’ll supply any office equipment you might need, secretarial assistance, and of course we’d cover your phone bill.”

“Well … I guess … sure, that sounds great.”

“Fine, fine,” Tanaka urged. “I’m delighted you’ll be joining us. The more men like you, the better the Talbot Inlet chapter of SAVE will be.”

Scotty patted Jimmy on the back. “Good man, Jimmy. This is great. Isn’t this great, Charlie?”

“Thanks, Mr. Tanaka. I really appreciate this,” Jimmy said with more feeling than Bryan had heard in his voice for a long time.

Smiling one last time, Tanaka looked at his gold watch. “And now, if you’ll forgive me, gentlemen, I’ve got to be on my way. Promises to keep, and all that.” He shook Jimmy’s hand, then Scotty’s, then Bryan’s. “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure. I’ll be in touch, Jimmy. Oh, by the way, we’ll start your pay as of last Monday, if that’s all right.”

On the way home, Jimmy whistled country-western tunes and banged rhythmically on the ancient steering wheel. Beside him, Bryan stared ahead into the intersecting yellow circles cast by the headlights. He didn’t know what to make of what had transpired at the Talbot Inlet Community Centre, but he knew that whatever it
was, it was taking someone else away from him.

At the dinner table the next day, Jimmy said with what Bryan knew was false cheer, “Iris, it’s time for me to move out.”

Iris’s jaw dropped.

“Got a flat over on Anne Street,” Jimmy went on, looking sheepish. “You know that big two-storey, couple named Smolka own it?”

“Yes, I know it. Jimmy, why not stay here? You don’t have to move out.”

Bryan remained silent. He had promised his uncle he would not tell Iris that Jimmy had a new job until he had moved. “It’ll hurt her feelings if she thinks I’m leaving because of her and her committee,” he had said. “I’ll tell her a few days after I’m set up.”

Jimmy mopped up some gravy with a piece of roll and popped it into his mouth. “You know I never planned to stay here, Iris. I just needed a place until I got my feet back under me. Anyway,” he said, rising, “I’m gonna do some packing up. I’ll take my stuff over there tomorrow.”

Bryan followed Jimmy to his room and sat on the bed while Jimmy transferred clothes from the closet to a beat-up suitcase resting on a chair. His battered face seemed tight and drawn.

“Do you have to go?” Bryan finally said. “Won’t they let you take the job anyway?”

Jimmy stopped, a few worn shirts clutched in his rough hand. The collars were frayed and the pocket had
been torn off one of the shirts, leaving a dark patch on the faded cloth.

“We’ll still see each other a lot, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, but it won’t be the same.”

Jimmy lay the shirts in the suitcase, then began pulling rolled-up socks from his dresser. “We’ll have some good times, don’t you worry. I’m only across town.”

“It’s Mom, isn’t it?” Bryan asked him. “It’s her and her stupid committee of tree-huggers. That’s why Tanaka wants you to move.”

“It’s more like I don’t want to be a burden, Bryan. I’m workin’ again, so I can afford to have my own place. I want to get back on my feet, like I told your mom. I would have moved anyway if I didn’t get hurt. I don’t like to be a burden.”

“But you’re not.”

“That’s real nice of you to say —”

“But it’s true.”

“But I feel like I am, I guess. I just feel better on my own. More independent.”

“Well, I think you’re being stupid!” Bryan shouted and ran out of the room.

“Bryan!” his mother called from the kitchen. “Time to do the dishes.”

“Do them yourself!” he yelled back, and slammed his bedroom door.

“What was
that
all about?” Iris asked a while later. She had knocked on his door and wouldn’t go away when Bryan told her to.

When she came in he was lying on his bed with the pillow over his head.