Read Worst Day Ever Page 13


  Chapter 7 – Who Dunit?

  Jackson should have been happy to be skipping out of school on Monday but he was way too sick to care about the things that usually gave him joy. He had just spent two miserable nights coughing and hacking and every time he tried to shut his eyes to get some sleep he saw the dead man’s face flash across his mental screen in living color. It was horrible. Now he was sitting beside his mom in the medical clinic waiting forever to see the doctor. He was about to doze off again when the two women in the chairs to his left startled him awake.

  “They say little Austin Sparvier found the body on his way home from the Twilight Run,” said the woman with elks marching across her fleece jacket.

  “But the body was found in the trees behind the LeRat’s house. That’s not even remotely on Austin’s way home,” said the lady with the big hair.

  “Well my nephew Terry is with the RCMP,” sniffed Elk Jacket Woman stiffly. “He should know.”

  “Is the dead man someone from around here?” asked Big Hair Lady in a shifty eyed whisper.

  Elk-Jacket leaned in close to Big-Hair. “Terry said he’s from Regina. He doesn’t have any connections at all to this reserve. No one knows what he was doing here.”

  “Was it . . .” Big-Hair squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, “. . . suicide?”

  “No. He was shot in the back,” whispered Elk-Jacket with a frown. “Terry said he might have been shot by a hunter who thought there was a deer in the bushes.”

  “That still doesn’t explain what a stranger from Regina was doing in the bushes,” said Big-Hair mysteriously.

  “Or,” whispered Elk-Jacket “who the hunter was that . . .”

  “Jackson Little-Light?” called the nurse. “Come this way.”

  Jackson’s legs were trembling as he followed the nurse down the hall of the clinic. He knew it wasn’t just because he was sick. Who was the dead guy from Regina and what was he doing in the bush behind Luci’s house? Was it really a hunter who shot him? Was Austin pretending he had discovered the body? Of all the nerve!

  “So what’s cooking tonight?” asked Mosom as he sniffed around the kitchen and lifted the lid of the pot that was simmering on the stove.

  “Hamburger soup.” smiled Mom. “Want to stay for supper?”

  “I’ll phone Holly,” said Mosom as he clumped off to the phone in his cowboy boots.

  Most of the time, Mosom ate at Auntie Holly’s house but now and then he ate with Jackson and his family.

  “What are you having for supper over there?” asked Mosom when someone at Auntie Holly’s answered the phone. “Uhhu . . . Uhhu. . . . Hmm. Mosom put his big hand over the phone speaker and yelled into the kitchen. “Are you making bannock tonight Kokum?”

  Kokum appeared in the doorway with flour all over her hands and arms on the front of her apron and a smudge of it on her nose. She just waved her hands at Mosom and didn’t need to say anything else before she disappeared into the kitchen again.

  “Yah, I think I’m invited to stay here for supper so don’t wait for me,” said Mosom.

  “What’s Auntie Holly making for supper?” Jackson wanted to know.

  “Not Hamburger soup and bannock, that’s for sure,” said Mosom with a big grin. “So you’re interested in food again? That’s a good sign. You must be feeling better. Back when I was your age we didn’t have antibiotics. Had to tough it out when we got infections. Not everyone made it. I had a little sister that died.”

  “The doctor said I have pneumonia. Did you get it at my age too?” asked Jackson.

  “One winter I had a really bad infection. My mom could hardly afford it but she bought a box of oranges and gave me one every day. No one else got the oranges, just me. And I couldn’t go to school for weeks.”

  “That must have been terrible not to be able to go to school,” said Jackson seriously as he looked up into Mosom’s weathered face.

  Mosom snorted and punched Jackson on the arm just enough to hurt. “Going to school was a lot more fun than lying around the house with no TV or computers. You have it pretty easy these days Nosisim.”

  Jackson rubbed his arm where Mosom had punched him. He wondered how hard Mosom could punch if he really wanted to hurt someone. His mind wandered again to the face of the dead man in the trees. What would it feel like to get shot like that? Was he shot accidentally or on purpose?

  “A lot of people don’t think it was an accident,” said Jackson’s dad to Mosom in a low voice as they dished soup from the pot on the stove.

  Jackson quietly took a soup bowl from the stack beside the stove and stood behind Mosom. He was all ears.

  “Seems funny that a hunter wouldn’t call 911,” agreed Mosom.

  “No-one seems to know who the guy was or what he was doing here. He was sure a long way from home.”

  “Mom,” said Jessie breathlessly as she ran into the kitchen and interrupted the conversation Jackson was trying hard to listen to. “Can I go to Luci’s tomorrow? Can I please? Pretty please with cherries on top? She got a new mermaid Barbie and it’s not even her birthday or anything!” Jessie was bouncing all over the kitchen like Tigger and making everyone with bowls of soup very nervous.

  “Sit down and I’ll get you some soup,” said Mom a little sternly. “I can’t take you there tomorrow. I have to go into town and get groceries. You’ll have to stay here with Kokum and Jackson. But if Luci’s mom wants to bring her over here to play, that’s fine with me.”

  “She won’t,” said Jessie, hanging her head and stirring her spoon slowly through her soup. “Her mom cries a lot lately and won’t even come out of her bedroom that much. Luci says she’s scared to go out of the house.”

  “Most people are . . . there’s a dangerous person runin’ around the reserve lately,” muttered Kokum as she cut up the steaming bannock.

  “I’ll walk Jessie over to Luci’s,” volunteered Jackson. “I’m not afraid.” That was a lie of course but he really did want to take a good close look at the bluff of trees where he had stumbled over the body. Was there any truth to the rumor that it might have been murder? He needed to find out.

  “You’re not goin’ anywhere without an adult to walk with you. I have a real bad feelin’ every time I go out the door. You kids aren’t going out there alone!” Kokum was waving the bannock knife around, her eyes were blazing.

  Jackson’s heart began to thump in his chest and his face got hot. He had never seen Kokum like that before. Did she think it was more than a hunting accident?

  “I’ll take you over there tomorrow morning,” said Mosom calmly. I need to check the back fence anyway. If you’re feeling well enough, you can help me inspect it Jackson.”

  The next morning Mosom and Jackson walked Jessie over to Luci’s house. They rang the doorbell but Jackson was disappointed when it was Luci who let Jessie inside. Without any luck, he craned his neck to get a glimpse of Luci’s beautiful mom. All he saw was a lot of empty beer bottles littering the kitchen counter and a whole bunch of cigarette butts in the ash tray. The house was usually neat as a pin but today it was filthy. Jessie was right. Luci’s mom was going through a rough time.

  Without speaking, Mosom and Jackson walked down across the yard in the direction of the fence Mosom wanted to check out. It surprised Jackson when Mosom turned slightly to the west and walked purposefully toward the bluff of trees where Jackson had first seen the dead man.

  Jackson didn’t say anything. He just followed behind his grandfather. As they got closer it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to keep his heart from jumping right out of his chest. Now that he was actually here, he really didn’t want to go into the trees again but how could he tell Mosom about disobeying his parents and participating in the race and finding the dead guy in this very spot.

  “Tell me what you know about this place,” said Mosom, coming to a sudden stop.

  “I . . . I . . . snuck out of the house the night of the race. I ran through here during t
he relay. It was me who found the dead man.”

  Mosom stared hard and long at Jackson. “Who else knows that?”

  Jackson cringed at the disappointment he read in Mosom’s eyes. “Just Austin . . . I hope. I think it was him who told the RCMP about it.”

  “Do you think God cares about getting to the truth of what happened here?” Mosom asked.

  “I guess so,” replied Jackson even though he had never really thought about God’s opinion in the matter.

  Mosom laid his hand heavily on Jacksons shoulder. He kept staring at the little group of poplar trees and said, “OK God; we’re here wanting some answers about what happened. We want to clear this up so the reserve doesn’t have to live in fear anymore. Your name is Truth. Please guide us to the truth.”

  Then he just marched right into the middle of the trees and started looking at the grass and the branches real closely. Jackson followed only because he felt safer to be in the trees with Mosom than outside the bluff by himself. Mosom squatted down and pushed aside the grass by the path. Then he walked through to the other side of the trees. Again, he squatted down, examined the dry prairie grass and looked off into the distance toward a little gully.

  “We need to go see what’s in that gully,” he said without even looking Jackson in the eyes. Once again Jackson followed Mosom across the field with a thumping heart. What did Mosom think they would find in the gully - another body?

  Jackson almost laughed out loud when he saw what was in the gully. It was just a big beat up black 4by4 that someone had abandoned there. There were no bodies in sight.

  Then, he felt all the blood drain out of his face. A bad memory flashed into his brain. He could hardly breathe. He stood as still as a fence post while Mosom took a closer look at the truck.

  “What do you know about this 4x4?” Mosom asked sharply.

  “It . . . It scared the heebee jeebies out of Cheyenne the day I took Jessie over to Luci’s birthday party. It spun out of Luci’s driveway going a terrible speed. Who does it belong to Mosom?”

  Mosom was already on the other side of the truck looking at the ruts it made as it came across the top of the hill from the direction of . . . Luci’s house. Jackson’s eyes widened.

  “Do you see how the driver’s door is jammed onto the side of the hill?” Mosom asked quietly. “Someone left this truck in a real hurry that day. Look at the grass over there by the exhaust pipe. Someone left the engine running too. See these footprints in the soggy part of the gully? The way they are spaced out it looks to me like someone was running for his life.” Mosom walked another few paces. “I can see he went for quite a tumble when he hit this mushy spot.”

  Mosom fingered a small scar on a tree trunk thoughtfully. Next he backtracked to examine a little round hole in the side of the 4x4. Then he abruptly started to climb out of the gully and head toward a barbed wire fence that stood between the gully and the bluff of trees where the body was found. When he got there Mosom unhooked a small piece of cloth from the top fence wire. “What do you know about this cloth?” he asked.

  “It was part of his shirt,” said Jackson. “It was pretty muddy when I saw it. I thought it was a just a pile of old clothes. Then I saw the body.”

  “We better go talk to the RCMP,” said Mosom grimly. “Your Kokum was right. This was no hunting accident.”

  “It was murder?” gasped Jackson.