Back to the Table of Contents
Chapter 7
"You have only two choices, Yolanda." Hank's use of his wife's first name indicated that they were having a serious discussion. "Either you convince Izzy that you have to read the technician or you find a way to go behind Izzy's back and read the technician."
"Either way, I have to read the technician?"
"Yes! Yollie cleared him! She might be right, but from what we've seen of Yollie's behaviour around the technician, there's a good chance that she's not. Everyone's lives are at risk. You have to read him. You should think about taking your mother too so that there'll be no doubt about accuracy." Hank knew that Yolanda would find it difficult to ask her mother for help and was expecting some resistance, but none came.
"If we find out that he's a spy, how do I convince Izzy that we need a second reading without ruining Yollie's credibility?"
"I don't see how that can be done."
"Then I have to go behind Izzy's back. Is it possible?"
"Perhaps."
"What if we find out that Granny and I are right and Yollie is wrong?"
"We try to convince Yollie that her judgement may be wrong and hope that she'll change her reading. Again, without Izzy finding out."
"Yollie will argue that we're meddling in her life again. She'll insist that she's right and I'm wrong. Are you still sure that Zzyk is controlling him?" Yolanda asked her husband hoping that he'd say No.
"Oh, I'm 100% certain on that now."
"You've changed your assessment. Care to explain, or are you going to change the subject?"
"My assessment carries no weight. It's just a feeling that I have. The opinion of the Yolanda women is what Izzy will rely on. And so would I," he added. "If you don't trust Yollie's ability to make an impartial assessment, and if that's going to jeopardize everyone's lives, then you have to sneak into that village and take a reading. When you and your mother have taken joint readings before, and agree on the results, have you ever been wrong?"
"Never. You're sure he's a spy? No doubts?"
"Yolanda, he's a spy. I have no doubt about that."
# # # # # # # #
"Izzy asked me some questions about what child birth was like after she returned from New York," Yolanda said while stretching her arms and back. Cleaning guns was fiddly precise work and her muscles became tired after an hour of it.
"That's new, isn't it?"
"Yes. She's gone from wondering about sex to wondering about giving birth."
"Please tell me that you scared her off."
"I told her that my eight births were eight of the nine best experiences of my life."
"She and Will are way too young to have children. Both are still emotionally damaged too. You could have lied."
"You can lie if she asks you."
"You think she'd ask me about her having a child?"
"No. You're safe. She won't consult with you beforehand. I'm not sure that she'll even consult with Will."
# # # # # # # #
"Nat wants his own sling," Yolanda opened another line of conversation after sitting down again and reaching for Hank's sniper rifle. Nobody but Hank and Yolanda were ever allowed to touch it. "He wants to be an active member of the Wilizy like Yollie and Wolf."
"I thought that would be coming."
"He doesn't have a warrior's mentality or the necessary coldness."
"Which makes him becoming more active in battles dangerous."
"What do you think?"
"I don't know. Perhaps as someone's assistant?"
# # # # # # # #
"Are those clothes that I brought back from the Surrey meetings going to work for Winnie?"
Narrator: Hank was talking here about a little detour he took into Cache Creek so that he could visit the town's thrift shop on his way back from Surrey. On every child's birthday, she or he would receive some store-bought clothes that Hank would purchase from a thrift store on his way to or back from one of the quarterly meetings he had with the military in Surrey. Hank never bought brand new clothes. An exception was Izzy's white and emerald green clothes, and technically Hank never purchased those. Yolanda and Yollie went to Surrey – Yollie to identify something Izzy would like and Yolanda to make sure the sizes were right. Yolanda only had to look at something dangling from a hanger to know if it would fit one of her children, and if not, she could accurately predict how many months they'd have to wait before they did fit.
"Not really. They're too big for her now and will be for some time."
"They were the smallest that I could find without going into toddler sizes and she'd never wear those. I'm going to look at the thrift stores in Prince George soon, and then I'll drift into other areas up north. I might find something small enough for her there."
Getting store-bought clothes that would fit Winnie was now a struggle for Hank and Yolanda. Most of their children would be fitted from Hank's 'barter barrel' where everything that the family was finished using would be deposited. Hank would tolerate no exceptions – everything potentially useful went into that barrel where it might be bartered for something the family needed.
Hank's unwillingness to throw anything away was normal frontier mentality. For example, all parts of a slaughtered farm animal would be used in some way, either directly by the farmer's family or through trading it for something they did need. Each member of H&Y's family made his or her own clothes and moccasins out of hides of animals that they had killed for food. Nothing was left on the ground for the crows. Even Winnie was now self-sufficient in making her own clothing. Footwear was an exception. Moccasins were fine for walking inside the house, but Hank knew from bitter experience that existing in the woods depended on keeping warm, dry and injury free. That started with good, solid shoes. Hank's contract with the Aboriginal Nation allowed him to requisition new military boots for everyone in his family once a year.
From the family clothes in the barrel, Theo's old shirt might become Mathias' new shirt, suitably changed by dyeing to reflect the colour tastes of its new owner. Every child had a favorite colour and Yolanda kept plenty of dye on hand. But clothes that had gone through five, or six, or even seven previous owners weren't going to survive intact for the eighth. Plus Winnie's birth one month before full term made things far more difficult to find clothes that would fit and be appropriate for her age. She was born tiny, and at six now, she could easily pass for four. Those agonizing first six months after Winnie's birth, when both Hank and Yolanda were convinced that they were going to lose her, were why they abandoned their goal to have 10 children. Nobody could understand how Winnie had survived at all in the absence of any medical facilities whatsoever in the frontier.
"Did Winnie find all of your hiding places?"
"Yeah. Even the marshmallows that I put in sealed containers. She's not smelling them."
"Is she watching you when you hide them?"
"I am now hiding them the night before in the dark and from inside my sling. Why don't we just give them to her?"
"Because she likes the game. I can't believe you're giving up so easily."
"I'm OK conceding defeat to a 6-year old. Not a 5-year old. But 6 is OK."
"You should just tell her that you won't be able to hide her marshmallows any longer because you've become old and feeble. She'll understand. I do."
"I've tried watching her after I tell her that she can go find her marshmallows. She doesn't want me to do that. She says that I'm confusing her. "
"Do you yammer at her while she's searching?"
"No. All I do is watch her. I want to see if she's using some search strategies."
"Just watching her confuses her?"
"I know. It doesn't make any sense."
# # # # # # # #
"About that eight out of nine best experiences?"
"Relax. You're in the top nine."
"Good. You had me worried for a while."
"You were #1 a few minutes ago. But, a 6-year old girl cost y
ou eight places. All part of being old and feeble, I guess."
"If I were to find a way to allow you and Granny to take a reading on the technician without Izzy finding out, would that help my ranking?"
"That, and finding out how Winnie can track down hidden marshmallows might raise you a notch or two. I can't say for sure. I'm terribly disillusioned right now."
# # # # # # # #
Izzy’s words: May 19.
I received a coded message from B.C. this morning asking me to contact the mysterious government official at my convenience; found out his name. Franklin. I hopped into my sling before calling him and left the area. I'd rather be paranoid than dead; wondered if Franklin was his first or his last name.
"Your project is moving along," he told me. I recognized the distinctive voice; wondered if he was wearing a gray suit. "I don't see any obstacles in the way of your project so I thought we should think about formalizing it."
"Sounds good," I said. I didn't know what formalizing would involve but was willing to listen some more.
"There's a man in Cranbrook that we use from time to time for securing joint interests over a long term time continuum. I think he would be the best person to run point on our joint interests. Can you meet him in Cranbrook?"
I understood the last sentence about Cranbrook. "OK, I'm not that far from Cranbrook right now. When and where? After sunset works best for me."
Franklin told me the man's home was on the southern shore of Pyatts Lake, just south of the town. It was the only building on that side of the lake. I'll be meeting a man named Stu at his home after sunset. He asked me if I would have any difficulty finding the place. I said No; didn't tell him that I was circling overhead the house as we talked. It turns out that Franklin was both his last and his first name. I would never give my kid that kind of name. No wonder he likes to sit in the shadows.
I couldn't help but think. A man that I hardly knew was having me meet another unknown man in an unfamiliar town. If B.C. were going to sell me out, now would be a good time to do it. I had nobody to protect my back so I contacted Hank but he was busy up north researching something.
Yolanda met me above the lake as the sun was setting. By then, I had looked in every window in the house and had established that nobody was in the house or watching the house. I asked Yolanda to remain high above when I went inside because he wasn't expecting me to bring anyone and I didn't want him reacting badly at the surprise. Yolanda was there to ensure that I had time to escape if an armed squad arrived. We watched as a dark shadow carrying a briefcase entered the home and kerosene lamps began to illuminate the interior. Time to have my meeting.
# # # # # # # #
"What did you think about him?" I asked Yolanda when we arrived back at her compound. I had made an excuse for Stu to meet my bodyguard so that she'd be sure not to shoot him in the future. Stu thought nothing of it. Yolanda could have given him a medical exam he was so trusting. I hit it off with him quickly too. Now to find out if he had passed Yolanda's tests.
"I sensed very strong signals of ethical behaviour," Yolanda started. "I've actually heard of him. His full name is Stu McKenzie. He's well respected in aboriginal circles and has done a lot of work on our behalf."
"So when he says that he's been asked to represent the Wilizy's interests in the finalization of our project with the B.C. Government, he really will work for us and not for the government even though the government nominated him?"
"Yes, I believe so. I have some cousins who could tell me more about him. Should I ask?"
"Yes, let's make sure. Do you know anything about the papers that he'll draw up?"
"Not a thing. And neither Hank nor I have any contacts in the legal profession who could explain them. I wouldn't know where to start to find help. We'd probably ask our B.C. military contacts to suggest someone, and they have essentially just done that."
"So we should trust him."
"Yes. That would be my advice. I had very strong positive readings. He admires what the Wilizy is doing by the way."
"What's an accountant?" I asked.
"A person that works with numbers, as far as I know. Why?"
"I'm supposed to bring our accountant to our next meeting so that he can run the numbers that Stu gives him. This came up before I could invite you inside. Stu insisted that the Wilizy have our accountant at all future meetings to give us confidence that we weren't being cheated. Do you or Hank know anyone who can run numbers?"
"Nat's good with numbers and he would like to become more involved with the Wilizy."
"Sounds good to me. What's Hank up to?"
"Trying to find marshmallows and clothes for Winnie, I think."
We talked for a while about Winnie and her love of the mushy desserts. She was sleeping by now, so I just looked in on her and left.
# # # # # # # #
Izzy’s words: May 22
The barges from New York arrived. I used my sling to tow them to a higher altitude, checked that all had arrived undamaged, and left them to float.
Yolanda gave me the update on the family. Winnie is busy with school projects, Wolf and Will are still working on the long range sensors, Yollie is doing something to increase our levels of protection but she's being evasive and Yolanda doesn't know what that means. Hank is researching something. Doc and Granny are on their honeymoon and won't be back until next week. They flew over New York and reported that the library building was no longer standing.
I haven't heard anything from Stu – but I wasn't expecting to yet. It's too early to expect results from B.C. They had some construction to complete before we could meet again. I don't have the skills to start building the command center on the Wilizy; not even sure where to put it. Hank said that he would take charge of that project. Perhaps that's what he's researching.
Bored, bored, bored. Guess I'll check what the weather is like on the other side of the ship. Yup. Same as this side. Still bored, bored, bored.
Since I'm all alone on the Wilizy these days, I've been spending a lot of time topless. I'm gradually becoming used to it. It's OK if I'm sitting down and reading, but I'm still self-conscious walking out on the deck. Even though the ship is high above the clouds, I still automatically check over my shoulder to see if someone is watching.
I decided about a week ago to take my top off for Will. Now I'm trying to decide how to do that. It's not as straightforward as I had thought. Should I take it off slowly while facing him? Should I take it off with my back to him, and then turn around after it's off? Should I take it off and then cover myself with my hands? Just whip if off and get it over with? Do I smile? Perhaps I should close my eyes? Wish there were rules about how take a top off in front of a boy friend.
# # # # # # # #
I invited Will to come to the ship but he's too busy to think about sunbathing right now; told him that I had some things to show him, but he didn't catch on. I wasn't going to say out loud what the things were that I was going to show him. Might be days before he can return to the Wilizy; he's busy calibrating something that needs calibrating. Will can be so thick sometimes!
Back to the Table of Contents
Chapter 8
"What's this thing?" Granny asked Hank. She and Yolanda had just flickered into the coordinates Hank had given them to find him unwrapping Will's filaments from what appeared to be a 19th century covered wagon.
"Peddler's wagon," he said. "Big wheels to make it easier to go up and down hilly territory. Like here." They were deep in a mountain valley with the sun falling behind the western range behind them. It was still too early for what would be the very short sunset in mountainous country. Other than the hum of insects, there were no signs of any living creature near them. "The trail to the technician's village is on the other side of that stand of alders," Hank explained. "I scanned the trail on either side of us before I came down. We won't be disturbed tonight."
"Will you be providing the donkey that goes with this thing?" Granny ask
ed.
"A donkey is old technology. You'll have a solar powered putt-putt." Hank opened the back of the wagon, pried a putt-putt loose of the clutter inside, and plopped it on the ground in front of Granny.
"You expect me to sit on this thing?" Granny wasn't impressed.
"While it pulls the wagon, yes. Unless you feel like getting behind and pushing."
"And what do I do?" Yolanda asked. "Pick up the yoke and pull?"
"No, you'll have a putt-putt too." Hank pulled a second putt-putt out of the wagon and placed it in front of Yolanda. She ran her pinky finger over the grime on the putt-putt's seat and grimaced at what she saw. Granny dismounted from her putt-putt and peered inside the wagon. All she could see was a solid mass of junk.
"You better show us how to set the wagon up so that customers can see everything." Yolanda was the practical part of the team. Granny was looking for a way to hoist herself into the wagon and go dumpster diving.
"They had these when I was a teenager," Granny said as she was stepping down off the wagon's back steps in disappointment of not being able to get in the wagon. "A peddler would come through town and everyone would cluster around, look at his wares, and wonder about the outside world and what it would be like to live there. Back then, donkeys pulled the wagons and their brays would announce the peddler's arrival. Some of the peddlers would do magic tricks; others would have cons to trick us out of our money. If you didn't have money, some peddlers would encourage you to barter. It was a way to keep their inventory growing. Let's open this baby up!"
Hank talked while he was lowering the wagon sides, pulling out shelves, and opening up cupboards. "That was my experience too. Peddlers disappeared from the roads when it became unsafe to travel without armed guards, but they're coming back into remote areas now. I bought this from a guy in the Yukon who was tired of fighting off mosquitoes in the northern swamps. If today's trial works, I want to introduce peddler wagons into Alberta. Get people operating their own small businesses."