I opened the sliding door and looked around the deck. It was a rather small deck for the size of the house. Deborah had a patio table with a tilting umbrella. Four patio chairs surrounded the table. Colourful, ceramic pots framed the deck floor and hugged the rail. They left very little room to move around. An ashtray sat on the tabletop, a cup of coffee, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, all bunched close together in front of Deborah. She sat right outside the sliding door. Her back faced the window. I slipped out beside her and side-stepped to the far side of the deck. The stair opening was close behind me, as I faced the patio table. It was then, I decided to look around the table. I seen Nicole sitting across from Deborah and at the far side of the table, in the corner, sat Sheila. Sheila was the Family Development worker for Feather Stone Band. I never did quite understand her role. My understanding was that she helped acquire certain family needs and helped with creating a daily schedule. I hadn't experienced any other type of support come from her aside from that. But, right now, she was Nicole's escort. Any social worker required an escort to knock on people's doors. And if not a band staff member, then a member of the RCMP.
Typically, reserves had contracts with a First Nations version of MCFD. If a native family living off reserve were to have some problems, authorities would call on this kind of social worker. And 'First Nations' doesn't mean the social workers were native. It meant they could be of any race, but solely work with First Nations families. But Feather Stone had a contract with MCFD. And so, I had Nicole sitting in front of me. She used to be the social worker assigned to our reserve, she managed to earn herself a promotion and became the supervisor.
Deborah, Nicole and Sheila politely ignored me as I managed to make it around Deborah's chair. I wasn't sure if they were uncertain of what to say to me or if they should speak to me at all. I did feel an awkward air float around us. I finally settled between Deborah and Nicole's chairs. I pulled my pack out of nowhere and pulled out a cigarette. I tossed my pack into the table and grabbed Deborah's lighter. I watched, through the corner of my eye, Nicole was watching my hand. I brought the lighter to my cigarette and lit the end. After I took my first drag, I slapped Deborah's lighter on the table and exhaled. A small breeze carried my smoke into Nicole's face. I watched as Nicole's face changed. Her patronizing, fake smile had stiffened. It looked more forced than when I first looked at her. I took another drag. Nicole looked down at the table and slowly lost her smile. I exhaled. Again, a breeze pushed the smoke into Nicole's face. I wasn't going to move, nor was I going to say anything.
Nicole pushed her chair back a few inches and said, "Would you like to sit down, Samantha?"
I didn't answer her. I took another drag.
Nicole stood up and gestured to Sheila to move over a chair. Sheila stood and shuffled over to the other corner. Once they sat down in their new seats, I sat. I took another drag of my cigarette, trying to convince myself that I was okay. I didn't believe it, mind you. But I tried.
Deborah butt out her cigarette and discovered something. "Oh my God, I'm sorry. We've been talking all this time and I didn't offer you a drink." Deborah smiled sheepishly. She put her right hand to her cheek and gave a sideways glance to Nicole. I knew her behavior was an act, but I didn't understand why she was trying to be coy.
"Would you like a coffee, Nicole? Tea? I have tea. Or milk? Water?" Deborah offered.
I stared down at the table, thinking she was nuts. I shook my head to myself. Deborah was acting desparate. She rarely acts this way. She was too quick to please. I let out a heavy abrupt sigh. Her actions told me she had something to do with this. I was, now, agitated. I was already trying to get away from these people and now I'm forced to deal with them.
"Oh, a tea would be good." Nicole answered.
"Sheila? Anything for you?"
"Tea. Thank you." Sheila gave a nervous giggle. I never believed she was nervous in the traditional sense. I always thought her giggle was more to fill the air with sound.
