Shinnecock Voices: Summer in the North - Part 3

I had been watching him slip for years now. It was my fault entirely. I just wanted to give him the joy he’s longed so hard for. The child he wanted to take care of and show new things to. Simon wanted so badly to teach his child all the things his father and mother did about life and the love that the world had the potential to give, but my body wouldn’t allow it.

Coming back into my dining room, I looked at my son.

“Martin, come sit by me, please,” patting at the chair next to me and placing my piece of cake down on the table.

“Laurie, will you excuse us for a moment?” Waiting for her to leave and Martin to sit before I speak again, I pick up my fork to fiddle with.

“Martin, I know you don’t know a lot about who your father was and I know haven’t been very forthcoming about him either.”

“Grandma Sarah had only ever said I looked just like him,” he chimes in. “Yes, you do very much, your Grandma and I didn’t want to burden you with the things we had been. But you’re plenty able and old enough to know what happened to your father. You should be able to live the rest of your life knowing the history of your father.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to tell you why we don’t talk about him very often. When we first met, he was very gentle and hopeful about the future, but a lot of things happened after we got married that changed him.”

“Okay, Mom, just don’t stress yourself out. I need you around to see some grandbabies,” He says, taking my hand in his.

Placing my other hand on his cheek, I look at my son thoughtfully, “I know, its just you look so much like him and I like to think this is what he would look like if he made it to your age.”

I began to tell him of his father after we had gotten married and his want for children. When Simon and I told them we were having trouble they wanted to help in some way. They tried many types of medicine from the old ways, for both of us. For Simon, it was to help his spirit, for me it was my body and spirit. They wanted so much for us to be happy, but Simon had begun to feel overwhelmed, so he wanted us to move away.

But it was when we moved that things had gotten even worse. His violence had grown with every passing year. At first he had only broken things in the house, like throwing the plates of food I left out for him when he would finally come home from drinking. I regretted letting him make us move out east because of his access to drinking. It was still new to him and he didn’t know how to handle himself. Every now and then he would come home drunk and depressed. He would talk to me about children again, and his sister.

I knew he didn’t blame me, he always told me it wasn’t my fault, but I could feel he hated the way everything had turned out in his life. He blamed himself for his sister leaving the family when he was 17. He told me that the week before she left for Vancouver they had gotten into a huge fight and he had never said goodbye to her. Then when she had never come home he had never felt truly happy again until I had spent my first summer with them. Then after he says all of this, we would try again.

One night was different. He had stayed home and was watching a special of some kind on the news. He seemed calm that night, so I had asked if he wanted to go out after the special for a late dinner so we could talk.

“Maybe. That sounds nice,” he told me as he had taken a small swig of his beer. I had gone to join him on the couch, when the phone had started to ring. I answered it, and Allan was on the other end.

“Hi, Ronnie. Is Simon there? I have to talk to him right now.” He had a sense of urgency and sadness in his voice.

“Simon, it’s your dad. It sounds important.” I announced as I held the phone to my chest. Simon sighed but got up quickly and took the phone.

“Hello?” Simon begun, sounding exasperated.

Not being able to hear the other side of the conversation, I stood and watched Simon.

“What happened?” — “She what?” he asked, with shock and utter confusion throughout his face.

His body had stiffened and he had begun to grip the phone tighter. All of a sudden he slammed the phone down, and it made me jump.

“Simon, what’s going on?”

He didn’t answer me. Instead he grabbed his keys and went out the back door, slamming it shut. I ran over to the window and watched him peel out of the driveway with his beat up and muddied gray truck before I returned to the phone to call Allan back.

The phone rang once before Allan picked it up.

“Allan, what’s going on? Simon just ran out the door and took off.”

“Ronnie, I’m sure Simon’s talked about his sister, Grace, with you before. Well the Vancouver police had just gotten in contact with us.

“They said they found the bodies of two girls just outside the city and had been running tests since last week to try and identify them. They found out one of the girls was Grace and she’s been dead all this time.”

Allan had tried to explain this to me calmly but I was speechless. In all the time I had spent with Simon and his family they never really talked about Grace. They had thought she had just remained there because she had always talked about living in Vancouver. With the fight that Simon had mentioned they had all figured she was angry with the family.

“They said this is the fifth case this year, Sarah had put a report out the day she didn’t come back from the trip but this is the only thing that has come back. She’s distraught, Ronnie. I tried to tell Simon he needed to come home but he hung up.”

“It’s all right, Allan. I’ll get him to you. Let me know, if you need anything else,” I said, trying to sound reassuring.

“Thank you, Ronnie.” With that we both hung up.

I grabbed the phone and searched for the airline’s number. I used the emergency credit card to book us on the next outgoing flights to Tanana. The first left tomorrow afternoon, with a connecting red-eye in Seattle.

I didn’t know when Simon would get back, so I packed for the both of to stay for two weeks. Afterwards, I called both Simon and my work to tell them we needed time off for a family emergency and will get back to them later on our return.

Simon didn’t return home until morning. I had fallen asleep on the couch, when I heard the door open and shut. He was stumbling around in the kitchen, when I got up from the living room. I told him there was a car coming for us in a couple hours to take us to the airport.

He didn’t even look at me, he only popped open another beer, chugged it within seconds and grabbed another before returning to the couch.

I knew he needed to eat something before we could get anyway, so I tried to make something that would soak up the alcohol. All we had left was a few slices of ham, so I made him a sandwich and threw out the rest of the food that would go bad without us here.

Passing the window to the living room, I noticed his car wasn’t in the drive. I didn’t want to know where he had left it this time. It didn’t matter right now; I had to get him ready for the flight.

When the car arrived, I got Simon in it first, then worried about the bags. Following the same procedure as we pulled into the airport, the driver helped as much as he could with the bags. He could tell I was struggling some, so I thanked him and gave him an extra $10 for the help.

When we got to Seattle, he had sobered up enough to make the connection easier, but immediately fell asleep once we got on the plane.

It was early Sunday afternoon when we got to Fairbanks. I walked to the front desk to ask how long the wait would be for a flight to Tanana.

“Captain Clinton has a scheduled flight departure in 45 minutes, would you like me to put you and your husband on it?”

“Captain Clinton is still flying?” I asked, remembering him back on my first trip here.

“Oh yes. This is actually his last two months. He’ll be retiring in November. Now about the flight?” She repeated, typing into her computer.

“Yes, yes. Please put us on it.” I said hurriedly.

I got some more food for Simon and a cup of tea for me at the food court while we waited.

“Thank you.” It was the only thing he had said to me in the time we’ve been traveling. It was starting to get to me, but I didn’t want to make his situation any worse than it was, so I called Allan and told him we’d be in Tanana soon.

When we arrived at the house, Capri was jumping at the fence and barking wildly.

“She’s been doing that for a few hours now, I’m not sure what’s gotten into her,” Allan said, as we walked into the house.

Simon took his things to his old room and continued his silence. I remained downstairs to talk to everyone. Sarah had come up to hug me, her eyes still bloodshot. We didn’t have to say anything to each other to know that I understood she was thankful I was there and that I had brought Simon home.

“I made you some food, Ronnie. I know you haven’t eaten and you must be hungry.” Allan said from the kitchen.

I let go of Sarah and tried to give her a comforting smile before heading into the kitchen. Allan had set a place for me on the table, next to a picture of a young girl. I sat down and Allan handed me a moose burger and some soup.

“Is that Grace?” I asked, as I tried to eat, he was right I was incredibly hungry.

He nodded and picked up the photograph with his other hand. She was beautiful, with long dark brown hair, which looked almost black and light brown eyes like Sarah’s. She looked so happy in the photograph that preserved her memory.

More barking from outside had startled me and made me spill some of my soup.

“That dog,” Allan commented, putting the picture back down on the table. He looked out the window and continued, “We’d gotten her for Grace before she left on her trip.”

When I remained silent, Allan said he’d let me finish eating and would go check on Simon upstairs.

Allan had found the remains of his body torn apart by animals that Thursday morning. He only said there was a shell casing, an empty bottle of whiskey and wolverine tracks in the mud surrounding what was left of his body. Allan had no idea where he got the bottle from, so I told him Simon probably snuck it in through his checked bags on the plane. He’d done it a few times before on our visits.

That night Grandma Sadzi had contacted the town to prepare for his funeral and a potlatch in the morning. It was the second time I heard her make a call like that this week. Grandma Sadzi had made the call in the other room, hoping I wouldn’t hear her. I sat listening in her chair in front of the fire. Evon sat on the other side of the room watching me. There was scratching at the door, and he had gotten up to open the door. As soon as the door was unlatched, a black mass burst through it and came up to me. Capri stood before me looking at me. I stared back and she moved to my side and sat with her head on my lap. I placed my hand on her head and she didn’t even flinch. This was the first time we had ever gotten this close.

It was like she could tell exactly what was happening to me, to everyone. She and I sat like that for hours. All I could do was stare at the fire. There was no feeling left. I couldn’t think anymore. I hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell him that it was finally happening. That it had been a full month and I had good feelings about this time. I hoped things would have changed for us if he knew.

To learn more about the inspiration behind the short story or the author, Charlotte ‘Charlie’ Roe, head to ndnimpact.com or reach out to ndnimpact@gmail.com. Roe is a tribal citizen of the Shinnecock and Unkechaug Nations. She is a freelance writer and documentarian, fitness influencer, and health and wellness entrepreneur. She seeks to inspire her community through health and fitness but also through writing and entertainment.

“Shinnecock Voices” is a monthly column in which citizens of the Shinnecock Nation share stories and opinions and discuss the projects and campaigns they’re working on, to allow readers an inside view into their incredible community.