Up Ghost River Read Online Free PDF Page A

one.
    â€œWe danced all night long.”
    â€œKeshayno. I’m trying to sleep.”
    â€œThen after we were married, we went skinny dipping up the Albany,” Papa said.
    â€œCome on, Keshayno.”
    â€œI remember your skin was so smooth in the water. It felt like a pebble baked in the sun.”
    â€œKeshayno. There are kids around. They can hear you.”
    â€œNo they can’t. We should do that again,” Papa said.
    â€œIn the snow?”
    â€œIn the spring.”
    â€œOh, Keshayno. Things are different now,” Mama said.
    â€œBut they don’t need to be.”
    â€œYes they do.”
    â€œWhat’s so different?”
    â€œEverything.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThere’s Rita … and …”
    â€œRita would have wanted this.”
    â€œKeshayno. She was a baby. She certainly didn’t want her parents swimming naked.”
    â€œYou know what I mean.”
    Next morning, Papa made us some hot tea and bannock, and then he went to see the Hudson’s Bay Company store manager. He came back and cooked us some lunch—moose meat with onions. We ate on the floor. Papa finished first and cleared his throat.
    â€œI spoke to the manager. It’s going to cost me a thousand dollars to get the roofing tile for the extension to the house.”
    â€œI see,” Mama said.
    â€œThat’s not good,” Papa said.
    â€œNo,” Mama said.
    â€œI mean, we already have debt at the Hudson’s Bay store.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œWe should probably head out to the bush soon.”
    â€œGive me time, Keshayno. We will be fine.”
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œFather Lavois told me.” Father Lavois was the head priest in the parish of Fort Albany.
    â€œHim?” he said. “What does he know?”
    â€œHe knows.”
    â€œYou trust his word over a manitou?”
    â€œYes,” she said. “Yes, I do.”

TWO
    â€œCan I come? Can I come trapping?” Alex asked. Papa and I were standing by the door of our house. Alex was still sitting on his bed of moosehide and blankets.
    â€œNo,” Papa said.
    â€œIt’s not fair! Ed got to go last time.”
    â€œHe’s bigger.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œWell, you’re not old enough yet.”
    â€œYes I am. I’m five.”
    Papa shook his head. “This one,” he said, gesturing toward Alex. “What a handful. I don’t know where he gets it from.”
    â€œProbably from you,” Mama said. “You used to be like that when you were younger.”
    It was spring and Papa and I were going trapping. I was already seven, but Papa said I still wasn’t big enough, so I watched him as he opened the trap and fastened it to the log that went into the water.
    I knew that Papa wanted to put his traps farther afield since the traps he’d set around here hadn’t yielded much. I’d tried to talk tohim about it and he’d said that it was out of his hands, and when I’d pushed, he had become quiet.
    Outside the morning sun bounced on the last ice covering the puddles. Shadows of cloud slithered across worn grass. The first patches of green were sprouting up in the muskeg. We walked silently, until we got to the edge of town.
    â€œWhich way is the wind blowing, Ed?”
    â€œWest!” I said and pointed.
    â€œGood boy.”
    Then we came to a depression in the soil that looked like two giant teardrops.
    â€œWhat do you think made that?” he said.
    â€œThat’s easy. It’s a moose.”
    â€œHow old is it?”
    â€œI dunno.”
    â€œFeel the soil. Is it fresh?”
    â€œYeah, I guess.”
    â€œLook at the grass around the footprint. Is it still flattened? Or has it started to bounce back up?”
    â€œIt’s already fully up.”
    â€œThat means the animal was here two or three days ago. If the grass has just started to rise, it’s less than a