War of the Eagles (15 page)

“I didn't say anything,” I said in my defense, holding up my arms.

“But you was thinkin' it.”

She was right … again.

“Stoneribs wasn't a real killer whale. He just a boy wearing a killer whale skin and boys get tired, right?” she argued.

“Of course.”

“Good! Now back to the story.” She turned around to face Eddy. Eddy tilted his head to one side and stared at her like he was waiting for her to continue. “So Stoneribs is getting more and more tired. He don't know which way to swim. No matter how hard he looks, he can't see the shore. He can't see and he's gettin more tired and more tired, and he thinks he'll never get a chance to see his home again … that he'll just sink under the waves. And then he hears it. Real faint at first, but then it comes again. The cry of the eagle.

“Stoneribs feels a little stronger and looks all around.

He can't see nothin but he hears the cry again so he swims in that direction. The eagle keeps crying and Stoneribs keeps swimming ‘til finally he sees the shore, and he climbs out of the water and takes off his killer whale skin. He looks up and sees the eagle sitting on the branch of a tree. Stoneribs tells the eagle he will not forget what he did. And he never did.” She stopped talking and there was silence.

“Is that the end?”

“'Course not. Stories don't end. Ever. Just where I'm stopping for today.”

“Could you do me a favor, and move a little farther away from Eddy?” I said anxiously.

“Why?”

“I don't think you should be that close. Nobody sits that close.”

“Why?”

“Because he can hurt you.”

“Him?” she asked incredulously. “He never hurt me before!”

“Before? When were you up at the camp before?”

“Here? Never. First time today.”

“But you said he's never hurt you before so that means …”

“Married to him for nearly fifty years. Knew him for fifteen years before that.”

“Naani, come on …”

“Don't you be going on. I'm not gonna waste my breath convincing you. Hard enough time convincing him,” she said, motioning to Eddy. “Old fool can't re–member nothin. Must'a had all the sense knocked out of him during the
chaanug
.”

“The
chaanug
?”

“The fall, the fall. When he fell from the sky, he hit his head, lost his memory,” she paused. “And speaking of forgetting, why don't you remember any Tsimshian anymore? You used to speak some Tsimshian when you was little. Now you don't speak none.”

“I remember a few words.”

“Then why don't you speak none of it? Just a word every so often. Why don't you do that?”

“Could we talk about this someplace else? Maybe we can go and see Mom.”

“Sure thing.”

I felt a wave of relief as she ambled out of Eddy's range.

“Come on, Mom's right over here,” I said. I took a few steps and then stopped. “Wait! Hold on a second, I have to feed Eddy.” I lifted up the flap and pulled out the rabbit by its long back legs. I dropped the bag to the ground.

“Here, Eddy,” I called and tossed it to him.

Naani nodded her head enthusiastically. “Good to see ya listenin to your Naani and feeding him good things.”

Eddy jumped down on the carcass. He tore a large strip off and tossed it down his gullet.

“Hah! Look at him go! Told you it's your grandfather … you know how he always love rabbit.”

“All eagles like rabbit. That doesn't mean this eagle is grandfather.”

“How come you think he's not your grandfather? Just look at him! Sittin up there with that look in his eyes, not talkin but ready for a good old fight. Besides, why you think he's here?”

“Because he was shot down and they found him in the forest and brought him here.”

“Wrong! He's here to look after you and your mother.

Sitting up there on his perch he can see everything that goes on. Just here to take care of you!” She said the last few words so loud a couple of the men working close by turned to stare at us.

“Okay, okay! Fine, he's here to take care of us,” I said quietly, placing my hands on her shoulders. “Can we go and see mom now? Please.”

“'Course.” She turned to the eagle. “Be good, you stubborn old man. I'll come back another day and tell you the story about the boy who fed the eagle.”

We started towards the mess again.

“Did you have any trouble getting on the base?” I asked. The major had been tightening up the security.

“Nope. No problem.”

“Did you explain to the guards you were my grand–mother?”“Didn't say nothin to guards.”

“But they had to ask you why you wanted to come into camp. They don't just let people wander in.”

“Didn't talk to nobody. Saw some soldiers stomping around in their big boots making more noise than a moose in rutting season, puffing on their stinkin' ciga–rettes, and talkin away to each other. I didn't want to talk to none of them so I made myself invisible.”

“You made yourself invisible? Like see-through, like a ghost or something?”

“Come on, Jed. Nobody but spirits make themselves invisible. I mean I just stayed in the shadows and moved slow and easy. Don't be goin silly on me, Jed … invisible,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Now where's that mother of yours?”

We walked across the parade ground and came up to the side door. I held it open for Naani. I reached down to my side and realized I'd forgotten my game bag.

“Mom's right through there,” I said. “I've got to go back, I left my game bag by Eddy.”

“Get it later.”

“No, I have to get it now. What if somebody takes it or something?” I questioned.

“That old thing? It's so old and worn I can't see nobody makin off with it unless they think it's a rag for the garbage!”

“No. I have to go and get it.”

“How about you just throw it away and I'll make you a nice new fancy one?”

“No, I want that one.”

“What's so special about that old bag?” she asked.

“Nothing … it's just that it … it belonged to grand–father.”“Come to think of it, it did look familiar,” she said, nodding. “I was always on him to let me make him a new one.”

“I'll just be a second.”

Naani went in through the kitchen door and I ran back across the parade ground. Of course the bag was still lying there on the ground. It wasn't like I'd left a pile of gold sitting there. I bent down and picked it up.

I looked at it. Naani was right. It was beaten up and worn. I wondered how many rabbits or ground hogs or whatever had found their way into this bag. I slung it on my shoulder and thought about it hanging on my grand–father's shoulder as he walked off into the forest.

I looked up to see Eddy glaring at me.

And for just a second, I thought I saw my grandfa–ther's eyes staring back.

.11.

The knock on the door signaled it was time for me to get going. I let the spoon clank down in the soggy re–mains of the cereal and got up to answer it. My Naani moved away from the sink where she'd started cleaning the breakfast dishes, and went to the ice box to get my lunch. I opened the door.

“Good morning,” Tadashi said. “It's a bit cool out there today.”

“You better put on something else if it's cold,” my Naani stated.

“He said cool, not cold. Besides, this is pretty warm,”

I replied, looking down at my army jacket.

“Your friend there has on the same jacket and he says it's cool. At least put on something underneath. A sweater or something. I feel cold.”

“So let me see if I get this straight, old woman. You feel cold, so I should put on a sweater? It's a good thing you're not tired or I'd have to take a nap.”

She burst out in a loud and raspy laugh.

“Now wait while I get it.” She disappeared into my bedroom and returned quickly with an ugly sweater. I couldn't conceive of ever being cold enough to wear that particular piece of clothing. I took it from her and stuffed it in my knapsack. She gave me a nasty look.

“Don't worry, I've got it if I need it.”

Her look got nastier. I went over, bent down and gave her a kiss goodbye. Her face transformed into a smile.

“You're not very good at being mad,” I chided her.

“Not enough practice, I guess.”

Tadashi made a motion for me to hurry.

“We better get going, you wouldn't want to make us late for school,” I said.

“Late, early, I don't understand what the difference a few minutes make. You not catching a boat. School will still be there a few minutes after nine o'clock.”

“Well, until they make you the vice-principal, I think we better get going. I'll be home right after school. I'm not going to the base tonight.”

“Good! You been spending more 'an enough time there. And you, there, Tadashi, when are you coming over for a meal? You haven't been here for three weeks or more.”

“I've been busy with Jed at the base, but I'd like to come soon.”

“Good. Soon. Now both of ya better get moving.”

We both gave her a hug and left.

“Come on, we better hurry,” Tadashi said and we broke into a trot.

The others kids from both villages were well ahead of us. They were already around the bend in the path and out of sight. Neither of us necessarily cared about walking with the group, but we knew they were on pace to get there on time. Unlike my Naani, the school did think being late mattered. One late was all you were allowed each term. Second late meant staying after school. Third late meant the strap, and I'd already been late twice this term.

Rounding a couple of curves, we soon found our–selves out of breath but within ear and eyeshot of the last few kids strolling along at the end. One of these was my “dear friend” Toshio. He turned around in time to see us sprinting up. He said something in Japanese, and then the other two kids walking with him turned towards us. All three burst into laughter.

“What did he say?”

“I don't know,” Tadashi replied.

“Don't give me that,” I snapped, “your Japanese is great.”

“Yeah, my Japanese is fine but I couldn't hear him.

He's too far away.”

The three of them stood on the path, waiting and laughing. Two of them moved slightly off to the side to allow us to pass while Toshio remained rock still, forcing both of us to turn ever so slightly sideways to get by him. Almost immediately after we got in front of them, they started to follow, dogging our heels, still chuckling. I heard Toshio say something else that was greeted with another hail of laughter. I spun around to face him and looked at him, eyeball to eyeball.

“Jed, don't,” Tadashi said, pulling at my arm. “He's too stupid to bother with.”

“Hey, Toshio,” I challenged, “it must be nice to have somebody laughing at something you said rather than at something you did. So what's so funny?”

I knew he understood a lot more English than he spoke, so I figured he'd get the insult. He mumbled some more Japanese and then all three chuckled.

“What did you say?” I asked again.

Toshio gave a broad smile. “I tell my friends that when you two run toward Japanese in your Canadian uniforms, that was last time any see Canadian soldier not running away from Japanese.”

“Nobody's running from any Japanese.”

I felt my cheeks flush and my hands curled into fists.

I didn't care if he was older and maybe knew some of that judo; I was bigger and stronger.

“All Pacific Ocean, everybody running from Japanese,” he taunted. “Canadians just scared children, like you. Soon they'll be running too.”

I took a step toward him and Tadashi locked me in a bear hug. “Don't do it, Jed, he's not worth it.”

“I'll show him who's running from who,” I snapped at Tadashi as I forced my way out of his grip. “Let me alone!”

He suddenly released his grip and, caught by surprise, I stumbled forward. Toshio shifted quickly to the side and stuck out his foot. He hooked me behind the leg and I smashed down on the ground, landing hard.

There was a chorus of noise; laughter mixed with yells and gasps. I rubbed my hand against my face and was shocked to find it covered with blood, my blood. I wiped my hand on my pants and then bounced back to my feet and charged him again. He ducked down and I tumbled right over top of him, landing on my back behind him. The air rushed out of my lungs, and I felt a searing pain shoot down my back and into my legs. I tried to get back to my feet, but my legs gave way. Tadashi was at my side and helped me stand up.

“Come on, Jed, that's enough, just stop.”

I could hear Toshio hurling insults at me. The kids who had been far ahead of us had all come back to watch.

My cousin Jonnie came over and stood beside me.

“If you want, Jed, either me or Peter will finish this,”

he said. “He's a lot older than you.” He was just trying to give me an excuse to allow him to fight for me with–out me losing face. I could picture Jonnie getting into it — he always liked a good fight — but Peter, who was as strong as an ox, and not much more talkative, never fought anybody.

“No, it's my fight.”

“Listen, Jed,” Tadashi said very quietly, “if you think you have to fight him, at least fight him smart. He's using judo. He needs you to charge at him. Don't. Get

him mad. Make him come to you. Then you can pop him good. Understand?”

I nodded in agreement.

“Good, ‘cause if you can't out-think Toshio, then you deserve to get the stuffing kicked out of you.”

Jonnie and Tadashi let go of my arms and I walked toward Toshio. He was smiling, jabbering away at me in Japanese. I wanted to wipe that smile off his face and my urge was to rush him again. Instead I stopped just out of arm's reach and stood, my fists up. His smile faded when he realized I wasn't going to make it any easier for him. That made me more confident.