The Case of Windy Lake Read online

  “The old people seemed kinda freaked out about it when we told them.” Sam watched for a reaction from Mavis. “Not sure why they’d be worried about a bunch of snakes.”

  “Yeah, isn’t it just the snake pits out there?” Chickadee asked no one in particular.

  Mavis wriggled in her chair. The kids knew it always took her a while to pull up the good gossip. Something inside wanted to get out when she shifted around like that.

  “That’s why we wanted to find Gramps. We wanted to ask him if there’s anything special out there.” Sam knew Mavis loved to be the first to tell a secret.

  Mavis took a drag of her smoke and leaned forward, although no one else was in the place, she spoke quietly, “’Kay, don’t tell anyone I told you this…”

  The two Muskrats looked at each other and smiled. This was how Mavis started her best gossip.

  “Those old people, they want to keep everything secret. Why? Maybe the town could be making money off those secret places if they weren’t afraid of letting people know where they are.”

  The kids nodded reassuringly, so she continued.

  “But old Rabbit-man, back when he used to drink, came in here one night and talked about what he called The Refuge. I’m pretty sure he said it was out past the snake pits.”

  The Muskrats looked at each other, slightly surprised that there might be some truth to their speculation.

  “I never asked the old people about it. They’d probably give ol’ Rabbit-man heck, so I never did.” She shrugged her shoulders.

  “Well, that sounds like it might be something.” Chickadee was already heading for the door in her mind. Mavis’s phone-dialing finger was twitching.

  “We still need to find our grandpa and tell him the news, so we better be going.” Sam’s chair screeched against the rough wood of the bare floor as he stood.

  With hurried good-byes, the kids left the House-taurant. Mavis waved to them with phone in hand.

  The kids began to walk in the direction of the Station.

  “So, there is something important back there. Must be really special for the Elders to keep it from everybody…well, most people,” Sam speculated out loud.

  “Yeah, Grandpa didn’t even tell us!” Chickadee sounded a little betrayed.

  “Well…you know how he’s always on about earning things…even knowledge. Maybe this is one of those things. Otter said he didn’t even know about it…and he’s really trying to learn.”

  “I’m trying to learn!” Chickadee’s anger flashed.

  Sam gave her a little punch. “C’mon cuz, you know you spend too much time on that computer.”

  “Okay, that’s true. But things like this make me wish…”

  “Yeah, I know, sometimes you don’t know there’s a deeper level.”

  ó

  It was getting dark by the time the kids got to the Station.

  This was where the after-dinner crowd, the miners, gathered to talk about their day. It was usually just the working guys, but this time a table of the big bosses sat in the middle. Chickadee and Sam recognized Mr. Makowski, and from the glint in his eye, they could tell he recognized them, too. After a quick look around, the Muskrats went to leave.

  “Hey, you kids!” Mr. Makowski bellowed across the room. All eyes turned to Sam and Chickadee. They turned to look at the man.

  “I hear your uncle found a boat!”

  “Yeah, it’s the one the archeologist rented.” Sam stepped in front of Chickadee.

  “Well…where’s the old man?” The manager’s voice was filled with scorn. Sam knew the company man wouldn’t speak to his uncle this way.

  “My uncle will find him, if anyone can. He’s a great tracker.”

  “Tracker!?” Makowski chortled. “Well, that tracker needs to get his idiot niece off my pier.” His voice dripped with anger.

  After a pause, the kids turned to leave.

  “I wasn’t finished talking to you!”

  Sam and his cousin turned back. They wanted to ignore the man but respecting their Elders was ingrained.

  Mr. Makowski spoke with a sneer. “I know that Pixton was excited about something. It had nothing to do with the mine. I don’t think so, anyway. He enjoyed his craft. Enjoys…”

  He shook his head. “I know those traditionalists would rather sit in the Stone Age than evolve. I wouldn’t be surprised if they got rid of that old man. Maybe they did it just to delay our work.” He shrugged and looked around at the other company men. “Who knows? Bunch of savages around this place.” Some of the men laughed, some didn’t.

  “You finished?” Sam glared at Makowski.

  “You can go.” The manager flicked his hand.

  Sam and Chickadee left the Station.

  Sam took his cousin home before he returned to his parents. They walked in silence and said quick good-byes.

  Atim was already back home when Sam got there and filled him in on what had happened out in the bush.

  Chapter 8

  Searching Near the Snake Pits

  As usual, Otter was the first out of the boat when they got to the rocky shore. With the boat’s rope in hand, he pulled the bow on to the hard limestone edge so that the others could hop out. Uncle Levi handed Otter the dog’s leash and took the tie rope. The shore rose steeply from the water and they had to scramble up an embankment to get fully on to solid land. The evergreens eked out a meager living on the thin layer of black soil that covered the pitted, sterile limestone underneath. Thick, spongy moss and tough bramble lived off the thin resources in the dirt and the little sunlight that pushed through the trees. It was this same dark soil that formed the mud of the delta.

  The trio and the police dog had a large portion of the bay’s arc to cover to get to the place closest to the stranded boat. Otter was already picking himself out a walking stick that could support his slight frame.

  Atim assessed the shoreline and the difficulty of traversing it. “Are we going to walk along the shore here, Uncle?” he asked. “It might be easier if we took the trail to the snake pits and then cut in.”

  “We’ll have to take the hard road. I want to be sure the dog gets a chance to whiff this whole stretch. Maybe, we’ll walk out along that trail.”

  Atim shrugged, but he wasn’t excited about trying to scramble over the steep shore between the bush and the water. His stomach growled.

  “Here, big guy.” A smirking Otter passed Atim a much thicker walking stick than his own. “This might keep you out of the water.”

  Atim flicked the hair out of his eyes and grabbed the stick with a mock show of anger. They both laughed.

  “Boys,” their uncle looked over at them with a touch of a smile, “quit being funny and come here.”

  He surveyed the trek they were about to take. “We have to find Dr. Pixton. This winter held on so long, the nights are still getting cold. Heck, we still had snow before the rain the other day. If he’s out here cold and wet…”

  He looked at them seriously and then shook his head. “I’m pretty sure even a city guy like him can last one night, but…not too much more….”

  Out from the inside of his jacket, Uncle Levi brought a large Ziploc bag containing some crumbled cloth. He shouted out Scout’s name.

  “We paid a lot of money for this mutt to be trained, so he better work.”

  The dog came running over from a rotting tree stump he had been investigating and nuzzled up against their uncle’s leg.

  “Pixton’s shirt,” he announced as he pulled it from the bag and presented it to the German shepherd. The excited dog took great interest in the smells on the garment. “Hopefully, this will give him what he needs to find that old guy.”

  The dog continued to snuffle and snort at the shirt. Then Uncle Levi put the shirt back in the bag. “Search, Scout. Search.”

  The dog looked in
to his handler’s eyes and then began to search the ground with his nose. He cast back and forth, but soon started going over old ground. He seemed unable to find what he was looking for.

  “I don’t know if he’ll find any scent. If Pixton was out in the rain, the water may have washed it away.” Their uncle looked off into the distance. “But hopefully, we’ll find something.” Uncle Levi grabbed an ax from the patrol boat and they started to walk along the edge of the bay.

  Otter and Atim waded at the edge of the water, using the limestone shelf that stuck out from the shore. Their uncle walked on top of a man-high, limestone cliff covered in mud and brush. Scout swept back and forth over the ground, covering the distance between the walkers and more.

  The going was tough. After a few minutes, their uncle called them up to him.

  The boys waded out of the water and scrambled up the steep shore.

  “How old?” Their uncle pointed at a pile of gray bear poop.

  Otter studied the stool and its crumbling mass. What story did it tell? It had rained the day before yesterday. It was partially hidden by the foliage around it, but it was also on the edge of a windy lake.

  “Six days?” Otter ventured.

  “Good guess, I’d say.” Their uncle shrugged and started walking again. After a few steps, he gave the dog another sniff at the shirt. The boys followed in his wake rather than returning to the cold water. Eventually, Atim took the ax from his uncle and led, hacking and cracking the foliage in front of him. Their uncle laughed at the amount of noise he was making. Atim tried to be quieter but it slowed them down. The tireless dog ran around them in circles, nose to the ground.

  It took over two hours of hard work to get to the point on the bay that was closest to the abandoned boat. It wasn’t far from where the stream left the tree line and pushed its load of silt into the delta. For eons, the cycle of rain had washed bits of black earth over the limestone base and into the stream. Across the muck of the delta, the RCMP patrol bobbed on the water. Atim waved at them in the distance. A handful of gulls floated in the air above the waves.

  The dog loped back and forth, then ran out to where the stream met the bay.

  “Nothing!” Their uncle threw his hands in the air.

  Otter looked back along the stream. It would be easier to walk down the stream’s bank. There was a lot less brush to wrestle through as the trees were restricted to outcroppings scattered on the exposed rock.

  “The snake pits are not far down there.” Atim flicked the hair from his eyes.

  Uncle Levi was studying the stream. The boys looked at him and then each other. They knew their uncle was assessing how much work it would be to wade across.

  “There’s a bridge over the stream for tourists by the snake pits.” Atim sounded hopeful.

  Uncle Levi looked at the both of them and then back at the stream.

  “Okay, we’ll walk along the stream to the snake pits.”

  The boys sighed.

  Uncle Levi brought out the shirt again and let the dog smell it. The bridge by the pits was a good half of a mile back from the lake. Otter was happy here, he liked the noisy “silence” of the bush, from the whispered rattle of the leaves, to the soft slither of the breeze. On the other hand, Atim wasn’t so pleased. He liked the bush but hated dragging his large frame through it. He muttered his complaints quietly for fear of earning a look from their uncle. Children in their family were expected to carry their load with few complaints.

  The snake pits were the closest thing the community had to a tourist attraction. When the government idea of hotels on First Nations swept through, the limestone had been crushed for a road leading off the highway, a parking lot, tourist dock, and trail. The pits still provided jobs to a few of the local kids every summer, but the anticipated hordes of tourists never made it past the many snake pits down south. Only those curious souls who traveled the highway stopped. Others came by boat and tied to the dock down by the parking lot. It was a much easier route then slogging through the bush along the bay.

  Once out of the trees, it was easier to see into the distance.

  “Look at the hawks.” Uncle Levi pointed at two brown hawks hovering over the trees some distance away in the direction of the snake pits.

  As they watched, Scout gave out a funny little whine and started to circle an area of the parking lot.

  “Looks like he’s stuck.” Uncle Levi hitched up his belt. “That spot is kinda shaded from the rain. May be the only place he can pick something up.”

  The joy Scout had at finding what he was looking for was evident. He pranced again and again in a tight circle. Eventually, Uncle Levi snapped on the leash and led the excited dog away.

  A set of bathrooms stood along the trail down to the dock. When Uncle Levi led Scout inside, he gave out a funny whine before circling and leading them back toward the door. He huffed in frustration when the scent disappeared once they were outside.

  “He was here.” Their uncle looked at the boys. “But his scent isn’t along the lake.”

  “Fish told us he took the old man to a few places,” Otter said.

  “Fish?” Their uncle shook his head. “How’d you find that out?”

  “We’re the Mighty Muskrats,” Atim said. The boys smiled.

  Their uncle laughed.

  “Well…we may need to bring in more searchers. Someone pulled that boat in. If not the guy who rented it, then who?”

  The boys shrugged.

  “Let’s head back into town.”

  Chapter 9

  Learning Ancient Secrets

  The next morning, the Mighty Muskrats were reunited at their grandfather’s house. Chickadee and Sam were busy doing chores while Atim and Otter cut kindling and brought in the wood. As usual, Uncle Levi was there, sharing a morning tea with his father. The house held the fading smell of sweetgrass from Grandpa’s morning prayers.

  “Did you go see her?” Uncle Levi asked, looking out the big window over the fast-moving water outside. He was in almost the same clothes as the day before, his Windy Lake Police Service jacket, a T-shirt, and a pair of jeans with the shape of his wallet worn into the back pocket.

  “No.” Grandpa laughed. His old cowboy shirt, with its light green tartan, had been brighter many moons before. His jeans were ancient.

  Chickadee and Sam looked at each other with a touch of surprise. They hadn’t forgotten that Denice was still on the pier but had assumed their grandfather had at least taken her dinner or something.

  “It was chilly last night.” Uncle took a sip of his tea.

  “She chose the time and location of her quest. I just want to see how serious she is.”

  “She’s always serious. And stupid.” Uncle grunted.

  Grandfather leaned forward and looked back at the kids. “Chickadee, go bring me that old blanket, the green blanket, that nice one of your grandmother’s. Samuel, bring me more tea.”

  Grandma had died almost five years before, but the house still looked as it did when she left it. The quilted green, white, and black star-blanket hadn’t been used since she died. She called it her “good blanket” and saved it for special occasions.

  Grandfather looked back out the window. The two men sat in silence for a while.

  When Sam brought the tea, his grandfather’s steady hand held out his cup. “When your uncle is finished his tea, we’ll go see your cousin and bring her the blanket. Go tell the others.”

  Samuel lifted the teapot and met his uncle’s eye.

  Uncle Levi shook his head.

  Sam knew he was being sent out of the room so his grandfather could say something private to his uncle. He wanted to know what was going to be said so much his teeth hurt.

  When Chickadee returned from the guestroom with the blanket, Grandpa told her to put it in a garbage bag so it would be kept clean. Once it was in, Sam too
k the plump bag from his cousin and nodded toward the door.

  As they were putting on their shoes, their grandfather began to speak to their uncle. “Your niece is fighting for her community…just like you are.” Uncle Levi grunted but said nothing.

  The door growled angrily as the two Muskrats left the house.

  Chickadee and Sam giggled as they approached their cousins at the wood pile.

  “We think Uncle Levi is getting heck from Grandpa.” Chickadee laughed. Atim and Otter looked at each other, surprised.

  “What? What for?” Atim shook his head.

  “For calling Denice stupid, I think.” Sam smiled as he shrugged.

  “Not seeing her as a warrior, I think,” Chickadee ventured.

  Atim was about to speak when Grandpa’s door squealed again. Uncle Levi stepped out and shut it behind him. He strode over to the kids.

  “Grandpa’s going to come out soon. I think he wants to take a package to Denice.”

  “Where are you going to look for the archeologist today, Uncle?” Samuel squinted against the midmorning sun.

  “The RCMP are taking charge….” Their uncle paused for half a second. “Even though it’s on rez land. We’re taking volunteers to comb the bush by the bay. We’ll start around the snake pits and move deeper in. If we have to….”

  Uncle Levi look off down the road. “You kids can come with Mark later if you like.”

  “That sounds good,” Sam said.

  “We have to find Dr. Pixton. He’s an Elder and it’s chilly at night. We don’t know if he has any fire or food,” Uncle Levi said.

  “Well, we’ll try to do what we can,” Chickadee assured him.

  “Look after your cousin first.” Uncle Levi nodded and turned. He gave a quick wave through the window as he drove away.

  Grandpa came out of the house, his long walking stick in hand, and headed toward the company pier. Atim stuck the ax in the chopping block. When he caught up to Sam he took the big bag from his smaller brother. The Muskrats followed their Elder.

  The sun was already hot enough that the dew had long since dried. The white gravel of road would soon be shedding dust. The birds in the trees on either side chattered noisily. A gentle but committed breeze pushed its way through the evergreens.