Provider's Son (8 page)

They all did their urine tests and just as the Newfoundland scaffolder had predicted, he failed. High traces of benzoylmethylecgonine, or cocaine, was found in his bloodstream. But much to said scaffolders delight, the foreman failed as well. The test had picked up a certain chemical, tetrahydrocannabinol, or THC, in his bloodstream. A chemical found in marijuana. His position was terminated. The foreman and the scaffolder were both immediately sent back to their rooms to pack, and on to Edmonton, not on a plane, but on a bus ride that would take at least six hours. The scaffolder with the prosthetic penis still sitting in his lunchbox passed.

After the urine tests a safety officer, and later, two police officers, took statements from everyone.

The bus ride back to camp was filled with the quiet chatter of the respectfully thrilled. The rumour now was that the scaffolder was paralyzed. Some said from the waist down and others said from the neck down. Everyone felt pity for the boy's father. Especially other fathers. But there was an undeniable air of excitement as well. The boy's accident was a change from the routine. Some shook their heads and told stories of other accidents they had witnessed. Some wondered aloud if the boy had been wearing his harness. And there were two or three on the bus who did nothing but stare out the window. Perhaps they, like the boy's father, were of the few that knew the cruel truth, Levi thought. Everyone else protected themselves with ignorance, some even believing in a secret part of their mind that horrible things only happened to those who did something to deserve it. They didn't realize that at any time, for no reason other than bad luck, the world could take away everything that mattered.

Levi couldn't get the sound out of his mind, the thick thud of the boy's body hitting the concrete. What he needed now was the grain of wood against his fingertips. But he wasn't going home, he was going to camp. There would be no workshop waiting for him there, no hard oak or birch. His latest chair was sitting alone in the shed right now, surrounded in darkness and silence, waiting for his hands. Here he was surrounded by vinyl, rubber, plastic, and metal. If he was home he would have his supper and then go straight to the workshop, where the stress of the day would be released through his hands. But there was no workshop at Camp Wisti, only a small room and a hall full of strangers.

When he got back to his room he turned on the television and watched the Newfoundland news program,
Here and Now
. There was nothing good in the news, but of course there never was. A man in St. John's had robbed a convenience store at gunpoint, the third in a month. When would these men start shooting? It was only a matter of time. Every one Levi knew in St. John's had either their car, house, or their business broken into.

When Levi went to supper he forgot his ID card and had to walk back to his room again. His mind was wandering too much to concentrate. On the “healthy” line the main course was stirfried pork, and on the junk food line was pizza and pasta. He went with the pork. Following it with mashed potatoes, beets, cooked carrots, a slice of apple pie, four cups of coke, a glass of milk, a cup of coffee, and a dish of ice cream. It still amazed him that he didn't have to pay for any of it. And if he didn't like some of it, he could just throw it away. He had sat next to a kitchen worker the day before and overheard her talk about how dumpsters full of uneaten food were taken to the landfill every day.

Sinead was already eating with her coworkers by the time he got his meal, and he felt like he was intruding if he sat down with her. There was a table full of pipefitters from his crew at the back, and although he didn't feel like eating with them, he didn't want to eat alone either. He went to their table and sat down.

“Shale might be in some deep shit with Erbacor,” one of the fitters was saying. “Not good on the old safety record. Dropping tools is one thing...” Everyone nodded.

“Two-day shutdown I heard,” another said.

“One-day I heard.”

“Two days sitting around camp and not getting paid. Fuck sakes.”

“I whudnt complain. Our company could be kicked off site yet.”

“Theres going to be a full investigation. Anyone who actually saw it will probably be questioned again.”

“Didnt you see it all?” a fitter said to Levi.

“That I did,” said Levi. “Never get it out of me head. I seen him when his father swung the floorplate around, and I seen him when he fell.”

Levi felt guilty for entertaining them with another man's tragedy, probably because he had been so close to one. He had seen up close, with David, his brother Frank's son, the horror of losing a child, and it was nothing for entertainment. The scaffolder had not been killed, but his father had thought he was.

“What did you tell them about the lanyard?”

“That he was switching to a new area right quick,” Levi said. “Unhooking and re-hooking.”

The men nodded in approval. Tradesmen didn't rat on tradesmen. Especially in a case like this.

As he was walking across the dinner hall the tingling sensation set into his shoulders again, followed by the shortness of breath. Gas bubbled in his stomach. Sinead called out to him as he was passing her table but he pretended he didn't hear her. The burping started in the hallway. He rushed to the lobby, swiped out, and headed out through the door into the fresh air, and for a smoke. It worked to some degree, but he still felt like running ten laps around the building, no matter how cold it was. Anything to calm his nerves.

Someone having a conversation at a picnic table screamed with laughter and Levi flinched.

The rails of the front terrace were made of pressure-treated pine. Even though it was solid from the cold he ran his hands over it and found himself calming. Sometimes when he drank too much and found himself getting sick all he had to do was step outside and breathe deeply.

“This could be a long winter,” a voice said next to him. It was Jon. Levi was hoping to see a little embarrassment from their first encounter at the security gate, but found none in those heavy lidded eyes.

“How much longer do you think?” Levi said.

“Ive seen it last until June.”

“At least the air smells clean here in Alberta,” Levi said. “In Toronto, as soon as I stepped off the plane all I could smell was shit...or something like it.”

Jon grinned. “Itll soon be the same here. When they start that up” — he nodded towards the project — “itll smell worse than shit. Just like Oilcor did.”

“I dare say.”

They both leaned on the rail and stared out at the project in silence.

“According to how bored I is here already, I can only imagine how Ill be on me last week.”

“Youre twenty and eight?”

“Yeah. What shift is you on?”

“Wer not lucky enough for that. We are on six and six, with twelve hour shifts.”

“Thats not too bad sure. Least you gets to fly home every week.”

“Fly? We dont get to fly anywhere.”

“What? The security guards dont have flights?”

“Nope. No union. Luckily I only live in Edmonton. Well, Im from Provider, but I live in Edmonton. Five-hour drive. Theres some Newfoundlanders thats been here for over six months. Imagine living in this camp for six months.”

Levi shook his head. “I cant. How long have you been working here?”

“Two years.”

“Id say you seen some queer goings on around here.”

“I could tell you some crazy stories.”

“Lots of drunks I suppose.”

“Drunks. I wish it were only. Theres everything from crack dealing to prostitution in this place.”

“Hookers! Go on by.”

“I walked in on an orgy once.”

“Jesus, tell me the next time you hears tell of one will you?”

“I dont think you would have wanted to be part of this one.”

“Hard-looking women was it?”

“Not hard-looking. Hard to find. There were no women.

Four guys.”

Levi put up his hand. “Woah! Stop right there me buddy. No more. I just ate.”

Levi got another cigarette out of his pack. Jon got one as well.

“You smoke?” Levi said. “I would have offered one, but you looks too smart to smoke.”

“Is that one of those backdoor insults?”

“Backdoor compliment Id call it.”

Levi glanced at Jon's thick arms. He was a naturally big man.

“Where did that guy get hurt today?” Jon said.

“Next to me. I saw it.”

“Oh. How is he?”

“Dont really know. One minute we hears hes paralyzed, the next minute we hears hes in a coma. I didnt know him though.”

“I guess thats why you guys came back early, eh?”

“Safety stand-down. When he hit the ground it was...thick. Thats the best way I can explain the sound.”

Jon shook his head.

They both stared out at the project, watching the orange dots that were men, swarming about it like a giant hive.

“Sinead said you make rocking chairs,” Jon said.

“Yeah. Id kill now to get me hands on a chisel.”

“Id be the same if I didnt bring my chisels with me.”

“Yeah, she told me you carves. What kind of chisels you use?”

“Hirsch mostly, but theyre specially made for carving.”

“Never heard of that. I uses ACE. Not top of the line, but knowing the right way to sharpen a chisel is more important than the brand. What do you carve, totem poles and stuff like that?”

“No, no totem poles. My art is not really traditional per say, and Im Cree anyway. Bush Cree. We were never totem pole carvers. I like working on smaller-scale stuff the most. Although I have done some larger pieces.”

Jon took the beginning of a carving out of his pocket that was small enough to fit in the palm of his large hand, and not much bigger than a hockey puck. It was a small basket carved out of a single solid piece of wood. Although the outside wasn't finished the carved loops around the rim were so detailed that it appeared as if they were individually fed through. In the basket was a carved symbol that Levi had seen before, but in the context of the carving he couldn't place it.

“What is it, a basket?” Levi said.

“A birch bark basket.”

“Whats that inside of it?”

“You dont recognize it? Didnt you do the WHMIS course in orientation?”

“My son I was half asleep when I did that. And I looked off other peoples sheets for half the questions.”

“Its the biohazard symbol.”

“Why would you have that in there?”

“Guess.”

“I dont know by, its your carving.”

“Think about it.”

Annoyed, Levi chuckled and stared out at the project again.

“My people are being poisoned by this place,” Jon said. “Rare cancers are popping up all along the communities on Fighting River. But the reserve closest down river, Provider, is the worst. Thats where my people are.”

“Well, we got that much in common. I grew up in a small place too. Couple hundred people.”

“Gadus. Sinead showed me pictures. Beautiful place.”

“Sinead said you was a city boy.”

“Well, I did spend a lot of my life in Edmonton. But Dad grew up in Provider. Ive spent a lot of time in Provider with my grandparents. My heart is there. Dad moved out of it in the seventies after he was finished at the residential school.”

“What do your father do?”

“Oil.”

“No chance you could narrow it down a bit.”

“He works out of an office.”

“Not short of a dollar, is he?”

“He hasnt been short a dollar in a long time.”

“You had a good upbringing then.”

“Dont sound so surprised.”

Levi shook his head and stared out at the project again.

It was a few minutes before Jon spoke again. “Your daughter is an exceptional writer.”

“Yeah. She used to leave a few things around the house, parts of stories and that, and I picked it up a few times. I dont know much about that stuff, but it looked good to me. She got pissed off though when she caught me reading from her scribbler one day. I didnt read much of her writing since then. Young girls likes their privacy.”

“How old was she then?”

“Oh I dont know, fifteen or sixteen I suppose.”

“Shes had a few years practice since then. You should check out some of her essays and short stories.”

“I dont know where she gets it to. Not from me or her mother. Although...maybe she do get it from her mother...”

“Well...youre an artist.”

Levi shrugged.

“What kinds of cancers is going around at Provider?” Levi said.

“Well, the rarest one is bile-duct cancer. Theres been four or five cases. For the size of the town thats way above average.”

“So whats causing it?”

“They dont know, but theres been fish caught out of that lake lately that look like those three-eyed fish on the Simpsons, only worse.”

“What channel do the Simpsons come on out here? I cant find it.”

“Comedy Channel probably. The re-runs anyway.”

“Bile duct cancer. That anything like bowel cancer?”

“No. Bile duct cancer is a death sentence. Five years max.”

“Bowel cancer aint no walk in the park.”

“True that.”

The wind picked up and it began to snow.

“That was quick,” Levi said.

“We better head back in,” Jon said, and they walked back into the lobby. The snow clicked across the glass lobby doors behind them, and when they looked back they could see nothing except white. A few minutes later it was gone again, and the sun shone through.

“I wouldnt want to get stuck in a snowstorm on Ski-Doo around here,” Levi said.

An onsite airport bus pulled up and men and women began pouring out of it with suitcases in hand. Some had faces of quiet relief. Others stared at Wisti Lodge and shook their heads in disgust.