Jake spat at the floor.
“Now listen up to what I’m telling you and listen real good. There is no afterlife. That wonderful woman’s last words were nothing but gibberish. Pure Ojibwe gibberish.” Jake drew the hatchet from his belt and sunk it deep into the pine countertop with a force that shook the little cabin and sent a wall-mount of deer antlers crashing to the floor. I’m gonna need a new edge put on this here tomy-hawk Cappy.”
The men stared at the hatchet. There was nothing left to say.
“And I’ll need supplies for a five-week trip downriver. My copper wire come in yet?”
“Yessir, a week ago. I’ve been holdin’ it for you,” said Cappy.
“Good. I’ll be needing Coffee. Waxed matches. Belly bacon, at least ten pounds of salt. And a box of forty-fours. You got any whale oil? Here’s a list. You can subtract it all outta that stack of fur”
“No whale oil, Jake. I got plenty of coal oil.”
“Coal oil is sh-t. I need whale oil.”
“I reckon you can get whale oil d-downriver from the gypsies, iffn’ they're still c-camped out there. Ask my granny. She always k-keeps the good stuff t-tucked away. You gotta ask her special. And it’ll c-cost you. But I wouldn’t go downriver, Jake. Th-they’s spooks and demons down thataway. Even the injuns don’t go there. And f-forty caliber don’t work on no spooks. Th-they’s spooks from d-dead injuns there. And nine-foot tall black …”
“Shut your g-ddam trap about dead injuns, Percy!” Big Frank shouted.
“And I’ll take one of your chickens outside for supper tonight if you can spare one, Cappy.”
“You want I should kill it for you Jake?” the captain asked.
“No. It’s been nearly a full day since I’ve killed something. I’ve got the itchin’ to do it myself.”
Percy and Frank continued trading swigs from the flask by the stove while Cappy and Jake bartered over the pelts and supplies. After they had finished their business Jake said his so-longs and shut the door behind him, leaving the men to stare dejectedly at one another. Frank opened his mouth and was about to say something when the door swung open and Jake stepped back into the doorway. The flopping, headless chicken gripped in his hand cast a spatter of blood across the floor, where it formed muddy droplets in the dust.
“Any you fella’s ever been down to the lake?”
“Lake? Which lake?” said Cappy.
“The big one. Huron.”
“That ain’t no lake. That’s a ocean,” said Percy.
“It ain’t no g-ddamn ocean, Percy. Its fresh water,” barked Big Frank.
“I’ve seen it once, years ago,” said Cappy. “It’s a sight to behold. You can’t see the other side, and the shore’s all sand, and the stones that wash up are all rounded smooth from a thousand years gettin' battered and rolled by the waves.”
“One of these days, I figure on taking the river all the way down. Have a look at the lake with Foxer.”
“I thought you was g-gonna shoot the dog,” said Percy.
“Percy if you ain’t got nothin’ useful to say then keep yer yap shut.” Frank growled.
Jake departed again, shutting the door behind him. It wasn’t half a minute before the door swung back open once again.
“So, you fellas want to know what Nokomi said after she died, is that right?”
“That’s up to you, Jake. But we wouldn’t mind hearin’ about it if you were to tell us,” said Frank.
Jake spat.
“Well, alright then. She said a land beast would lead me, and that I should follow it. She said birds would come down from the sky with some sort of words of wisdom. She said that I should pay attention, and heed what they told me. Like I said, it was gibberish.”
“Th-that aint gibberish,” said Percy, timidly. He had stepped out from behind Big Frank, all pale faced beneath his black top hat, his blue-gray eyes wide and fearful. “It comes from the B-Bible.”
“That woman never held a Bible in her life,” said Jake.
“It’s a verse from the b-book of Job, just as sure as I’m standin’ here.” Percy said. “‘The beast of the land shall lead thee, and the birds of the air shall teach thee’.”
The cabin grew silent. Even Big Frank kept his peace, for Percy Smith had finally said something memorable.
C. JMF Humphrey, 2024
