Fraser's point of view again.

Chapter Forty: A Brief Visit

March 1, 2018

As has been mentioned, Mairead has two part-time jobs. We were recently out delivering something to one workplace when we got a call requesting us to go back to the original location and return to the one at which we had just arrived. We had just an hour to do so, and still had to go up to the third floor of this building to drop off the first item before we started our second task.

As the elevator doors closed, I heard a familiar voice say, "Okay, if this thing isn't ready and waiting for us when we get back, we're taking the stairs."

Ray Vecchio had dropped in on us unexpectedly.

"What are you doing here?" RayK asked.

"Nice to see you, too," said RayV.

RayK smiled. "Nice to see ya. What are you doing here?"

RayV shrugged. "Someone has to take charge."

I'm sure RayK felt we were doing fine without him, but no one said any such thing.

When we returned to the elevator, it was not ready and waiting. RayK pressed the down button, but the elevator was headed up, at someone else's call.

"Right, we're taking the stairs," said RayV.

We hurried down the stairs, the two Rays pushing each other in and out of "front," as we call the station occupying Mairead's point of view. The newest member of our group tends to be in front the most, but RayK was the well-established regular fronter by this time, so Mairead couldn't quite make up her mind which of them to keep there.

"Just don't make us fall," RayK laughed, struggling to measure his steps on the solid, winding staircase.

"Don't make me laugh, and I won't make you fall," RayV responded.

There was some debate over who would drive Mairead's car. RayK was our usual driver, but RayV was set on doing it himself. I think he would have argued to the death, had not all five of us been strongly against his taking the wheel. As RayK pointed out, "We're not cops in this world. If we get pulled over, we'll be in real trouble." So, in the end, he relented. In spite of RayK's relatively conservative driving, we made our deadlines.

RayV left us shortly thereafter, but has dropped in again since, and I'm sure we'll be seeing more of him.

The 90's.

I must say that the puppies showed me a side of Ray I hadn't seen before. He fairly simpered over them. We had suspected that Star was pregnant before we left Canada the last time, and he seemed overjoyed that our theory had been correct.

One thing he failed to mention in his account was that he had a little trouble distinguishing the sex of the pups at first, mistaking a female for a male. I told him that if he compared the two side-by-side, he would never again make that mistake. When he got a look at a male later on, he acknowledged that I was right.

It felt good to take the sled out again, even though it had been only a few weeks since the last time. We made the most of that afternoon, adding a lot of new memories to the collection. I loved that I could share the team with my sister and my friend, and that I had a true family member looking after them for me.

And then the two of them threw me to the wolves, so to speak, after dinner that evening. I realize that there didn't seem to be a single person there who didn't enjoy my singing, but I was still a little put out by Maggie's and Ray's ganging up on me.

By the time we got back to the cabin after stopping at Northmart, I was starting to think about having to leave soon, and how I wished we could spend a little more time with Maggie. She was loading film into her camera, and I asked her to be sure to send me some of the pictures when she got the prints back.

"Of course," she said, smiling. "Would you mind if I took a couple of you now? I want to get the roll started."

"All right."

"Just build up the fire and I'll take some candid shots."

"You like photography?" I asked, crouching by the fireplace.

"Oh... I do, but I haven't devoted much study to it. I'm definitely an amateur."

I heard some of the dogs barking, but then things quieted down. I supposed they had calmed when they recognized Ray.

Maggie took a couple of pictures as I raked the coals into a small pile and began picking out pieces of firewood from the wood box.

Suddenly, the dogs started barking again, some menacing and some frantic in pitch.

"Something's wrong," Maggie said, even as I stood up.

"Yes." I got my coat. "You may need your gun."

She nodded and hurried to the closet where she had hung up her uniform and gun belt. A moment later, we had zipped our coats and crept out the door.

We could hear two voices: one Ray's, and one I didn't recognize right away, due to passage of time. I listened carefully to discern their location between the house and the shed.

I moved my finger in a circle in the air, as if I were stirring a cup of tea with it, and then pointed back toward the far end of the cabin.

Maggie nodded and began moving swiftly and quietly the way I had indicated. I moved in the opposite direction.

The voices became clearer as I moved along the wall. Soon, I could make out words.

"...And when I heard you were back in your hometown..."

"FRASER!" I heard Ray shout.

I quickly looked around the corner, but when I saw that my friend was not imminently to be killed, I ducked back again. There was something familiar about the man threatening him, but he was turned three-quarters away from me, so I didn't recognize him yet.

"I'm not him. I don't even look like him!"

Was it Ray Vecchio this man was after? But who would look for RayV in Canada?

"You couldda had plastic surgery."

"In your hometown," he said. And then I got it.

"Really?!" Ray exclaimed, sounding particularly agitated.

Now that I knew with whom I was dealing, it was time to make my appearance. "He's right. I believe it's me you're looking for."

The man, whom I now remembered was called Murphy, jabbed at Ray's chest with his baseball bat. Ray stumbled backward to the ground as Murphy turned to look at me. "You're the son of a gun who hauled me in for... fishing over the limit."

"That's it?" Ray exclaimed. "Fishing over the limit? You've been waiting four years to jack Fraser up just because of a lousy fishing misdemeanor?!"

I couldn't remember what "jack up" meant, but I didn't think it was the best opportunity for a lesson, so I didn't ask.

"I did time for that!" Murphy told him angrily. "So, yeah. I'm gonna... jack him up. Whatever the hell that means."

"No, you're not," I contradicted.

"Oh, yeah? You're not carryin' a weapon." The man was nothing if not observant.

"That's correct. But my sister is."

As I knew she would, Maggie took her cue. "Put the bat down, sir."

"I heard about you," Murphy told her. "You like to go around threatening people with empty guns."

One of the things I envied about my sister was that she knew how to bluff. When I met her, she was already a master at it. But she didn't need to bluff now. She fired a bullet into the snow a few feet away from him. "Only when I'm off-duty," she said.

He dropped the bat.

It had turned out to be quite a day, in spite of the slow and peaceful start, culminating in pictures at the local jail, pictures in front of the fireplace with the puppies, pictures of each other. The art of photography is something into which, like Maggie, I had not put much study, but which interested me a good deal. That night I realized for the first time why some families put such an emphasis on being certain to take pictures of every life event, however small. Putting on one's best or favorite clothes for a quick pose before dispersing for the weekend. The hobby of scrap-booking.

My grandmother had taken a picture of me at each of my birthdays and all the Christmases I spent with her and my grandfather, and if I'm honest I was often a bit uncooperative. I cared not a whit about documenting the occasion. I would rather discuss why I didn't receive the present for which I had asked. But years later, those photos of myself became precious to me. Much as I wished I could offer my years of experience to the boy in the photos, forestalling some of the poor decisions he would make, I found I had just as much to learn from him. After all, his poor choices became my superior knowledge. His longing for a lost mother and an absent father had only just begun to develop into a determination in me to keep in constant communication with my sister and to hold dear all the friends who valued me as such.

I looked forward to receiving copies from our "spontaneous photo shoot" as Ray called it. I decided I should acquire a camera of my own to begin documenting the events of my life that might help me later on, and perhaps help my child—should I ever be blessed with one—to know me better. I wished I had more pictures of my own parents. Over the last year and a half, fellow Mounties and friends of my parents had heard of my Chicago apartment's burning and sent me whatever photos they could find that pictured one or both of my parents. Many of them featured other people in the foreground; some were not good quality. But I ended up with a couple dozen instead of the mere handful I'd had before, and I was grateful. They even found a few more of me as a boy.

[Ray, glancing over the previous paragraphs, said: What's with all the nostalgia? Can you boil that down a little? I reread them, revised, edited, and... they ended up longer than before. I'm sorry, Ray.]

I was quite concerned about Ray's injury. Although he made loud protestations that he was fine, I could tell that it gave him a good deal of pain. Maggie and I saw to it that he took aspirin and drank some tea after I'd applied liniment to it for him. He did seem to feel a bit better before we turned in for the night.

Maggie had planned to put the two of us in the living room this time, but she insisted he use her bed again because of his shoulder. He tried to argue, but we wouldn't hear of it, and he finally retired to her room again. I slept on the floor as before, and Maggie made herself comfortable on the couch.

"If we all slept on the floor, we'd be a Scout troop," I told Maggie with a smile.

"I think it takes a little more than camping on a living room floor," she said. "There are initiations and so forth."

"Were you in the Scouts?"

"I wanted to be, but my mother didn't have much time to spare. I was able to try it for a few weeks because a neighbor's girl was in the local troop and they were willing to take me, but eventually they moved away."

"I see."

"But I still have the handbook, and I learned a lot from that. I worked my way through a lot of it and pretended my mother was my troop leader. She even made me some badges when I completed challenges from the book."

"That's wonderful. She seems to have been a very committed mother."

"Yes, she was."

"That reminds me... I owe Ray a badge. A 'Tuck in on the floor, I hurt my back' badge."

Maggie giggled, something I hadn't heard from her since I'd told her of my father's escapade involving the Inuvik Social Club and a lack of clothing. "There must be a story behind that."

"Yes. We were guarding a man who was in the witness protection program. We stayed overnight in an empty apartment and the three of us camped on the floor. The witness had also been in the Scouts, so we were used to roughing it, but Ray... less so."

"So, you promised him a merit badge?"

"He said he wanted one, and I said I'd get it."

"Then I guess you should."

We fell silent for a while and then Maggie said, "Good night, Benton."

"Good night, Maggie," I answered.

The sun was just setting, but the opaque curtains over the windows shut out most of the light, and I didn't find it hard to fall asleep.

It was light again by the time I got up. Maggie woke as I was building the fire back up. She went to the kitchen and started making eggs and toast for us. It was about the time that the smell of coffee reached its zenith that Ray emerged from hibernation. He moved slowly and stiffly to the bathroom, where he remained for several minutes.

I was about to sit down to my breakfast when Ray opened the bathroom door and called, "Fraser? C'mere for a minute."

I went to the bathroom door. "Yes?"

He was holding a gauze pad and the smell of liniment was strong in the air. "I, uh... I took care of my shoulder, but it hurts like hell when I try to reach my back, and I'm still kinda sore..." He opened his mouth to say more and then closed it.

I pushed the door open further, stepped inside and closed it behind me.

"What'd you close the door for?"

"To give you more privacy," I said, thinking it obvious. I took the bottle from him and began working liniment into his back.

He tensed. "Well... but... Maggie's out there. It's weird."

"We've convened in stalls of public restrooms for privacy before."

"Men's rooms. Public. Aw, forget it."

I could tell that this was another thing like letting one's spoon touch someone else's, and I wasn't going to get a logical agreement out of him. "Do you want to open the door?"

"It doesn't really matter at this point."

"All right. You know, you really should try to practice better posture."

"Save it. I know already."

I decided not to try to talk to him for a bit. After I'd covered his main muscle groups and areas that seemed particularly tense, I asked, "How is that?"

"Better," he said. He half-turned to take the bottle from me and I observed that whatever bruising his ribs had taken from Tanner's knee was no longer visible. "Thanks. You can go."

I felt a bit like a dismissed servant as I exited the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I went back to the kitchen and washed my hands in the sink before sitting down.

"Is he all right?" Maggie asked me.

"Yes. It's just difficult for him to manage everything with his shoulder being so sore."

"You should take that liniment with you. I can make another batch while you're gone."

"Thank you, I'm sure he'd appreciate it. And I think I ought to get the recipe from you, too. There's spruce in it, isn't there?"

"Yes, black spruce, of course." She smiled. "You have wonderful olfactory capability."

"Well... I've had a lot of practice. And of course, I do have difficulty identifying anything I haven't encountered before."

"As would anyone." She put another plate of food next to mine and began eating her own breakfast, which she had set aside earlier.

"Would you mind if we took some of your pemmican with us as well?" I asked.

"Of course not. Help yourself."

"Help yourself to what?" asked Ray, emerging from the bathroom fully clothed.

"Pemmican," Maggie answered.

"Oh. I should have known." He saw the plate waiting for him. "Thanks for breakfast."

"You're quite welcome. I thought you could use a good start to a long day."

"Hey, um... how're we getting the dogs to the airport?" Ray asked.

"It's all taken care of. When Benton outlined your plan for me, I got in touch with an acquaintance who has a large truck. He'll be here soon to transport all of you."

Our visit had flown by. I hoped we would have some time to spare after our return from King William Island.

As we were finishing breakfast, I suddenly remembered something. "Ray, have you called your parents since we got here?"

Ray swore quietly. "No, I forgot all about it. Maggie, do you mind if I make a call to Skokie? I can pay you for it."

"That's fine," she said.

"Thanks. I don't wanna get slapped with roaming fees if I can avoid it. Fraser what time is it in Chicago?"

I looked at my watch. "Just before nine o'clock."

"Good. They'll be up."

I tried not to listen in on Ray's conversation with his parents, but Maggie didn't seem inclined to talk at the time, and I got the feeling that she did want to listen. I wasn't sure whether or not to admonish her on the subject.

A truck pulled into the yard and the dogs began a chorus of barking.

Ray concluded the call with, "Okay. Our ride is here; I gotta go. Love you too, Mom. Bye."

I glanced up at Maggie and saw an infectious smile on her face. I smiled back. "Help me load up the dogs?"

"Of course." She led the way to the front door.

Outside, the truck's driver had gotten out of the cab and was walking up to meet us. He was of average height and build and had a few grey streaks in his dark hair and mustache. "Good morning, Maggie," he called.

"Good morning, Jeff," she answered. "Thank you for coming."

"No trouble," he answered. He held his hand out to me. "You must be Maggie's brother."

"Yes, sir," I answered. "Benton Fraser."

"Jeff Davis," he answered.

"Ah, like the American Confederate," I observed.

He laughed. "Jeffrey, not Jefferson."

"Are all Canadians history buffs?" Ray asked.

"Jeff, this is Benton's friend and partner, Ray Kowalski," Maggie said.

Davis shook Ray's hand. "Good to meet you."

We started for the shed where we put the dogs into crates and loaded them into the back of the truck. Then Maggie thanked Jeff again and he got into the cab.

"It was good to visit with you," I said.

"It was," she agreed. "It'll be quiet around here without the team. I hope you find what you're looking for."

I clasped her hand and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "We'll be back before you know it." She slapped my arm as I stepped back so Ray could say goodbye.

He hesitated a moment and then said in a complaining tone, "Fraser..."

"I know, I know," I grumbled, turning my back to them. On the one hand, it seemed to me that Ray had no business doing anything that necessitated my giving them privacy, but on the other hand, Maggie was an adult and could certainly handle herself.

"Thanks for everything," I heard Ray say. "See you soon."

"All right. Be careful," she answered.

I looked back at him. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," he said, coming to join me.

We got into the cab with Jeff and waved to Maggie. Then we were off.

"How many connecting flights will we have this time?" Ray asked.

"One," I answered. "We're flying to Taloyoak Airport, where we'll pick up Dief on our layover. Then we'll have a non-commercial flight to Gjoa Haven."

"When you say 'non-commercial,' what do you mean?"

"I mean the plane is owned by a private company that schedules flights based strictly on demand."

"That sounds expensive."

"Well, it might be, except that the owner was a friend of my grandparents', and also happens to be a history enthusiast. He was pleased to give us a good rate in the interest of a possible historical discovery."

"That was nice of him," Davis put in.

"Fraser, do you know everyone in Canada?" asked Ray.

"No, Ray. I'm confident that that would be impossible. However, I do look forward to introducing you to an old friend in Nunavut." I looked out the passenger window and watched the scenery go by. Some things had changed since I was last there, but some hadn't. I wondered if Nunavut would be the same.

Thank you kindly for reading. Your comments are welcome, as ever. ~B. Fraser