The Coffin Maker

Chapter 28

On the drive north, Blackwood noted the first signs of the changing season. The Sumacs were bright red, the Aspen and Poplar leaves yellow. The weeds in the ditches had gone to seed and hung limp and brown. Blackwood's sole companion on the journey was the emptiness he felt after learning the news of Ailsa's imminent marriage. He thought about the ways he had ruined his chances with her and things he could have done differently. He scolded himself over the stupid obsession with avoiding relationships during an investigation. Li Li Wu was right. If he had listened to her, he and Ailsa would be lovers.

He guided the Corvette into the farm lane. The car had low clearance and the undercarriage scraped on the high spots forcing him to go slowly. Norman was in the yard and saw him coming. Blackwood got out of the car and gave him a combined handshake and hug. He reached into the passenger seat, presented Norman with a new Swiss Army Knife and apologized profusely for being absent so much longer than anticipated.

"Don't say it as though you feel sorry for me," said the Indian. "The farm is a good place to be."

"How's Sheshebens?" Blackwood asked. Feelings of guilt surged through his body. He was confused. Am I so selfish that I suddenly switch my attentions back to her, he wondered. Is my condition so pathetic?

"You should ask her yourself," answered Norman.

"Is she at home?"

Norman nodded.

"Maybe I'll take a quick trip over. You know...pop in...tell her I'm back."

"Better make it soon," said Norman with a smirk, glancing at the sports car. "If it snows you won't be going anywhere in that rig until spring."

They both laughed; Blackwood accepted the dig. "Not too practical in the North, is it? It seemed like a good idea at the time. It is fun to drive."

"Fun to drive speed of turtle up laneway?" said Norman in the deep-toned staccato speech reminiscent of Hollywood Indians, a tactic he often used to tease Blackwood. "Give white man time to think about what to cook for dinner?" he added straight-faced.

"I'll grade the lane tomorrow," replied Blackwood, pretending to ignore the mocking. "If you can remember where you put the tractor blade!"

"Behind shed. Near big wasp nest," quipped Norman.

"Okay, you win. I'll deal with it tomorrow. Everything else okay? The animals?"

"Everything good here."

"I'll be back in an hour or two," announced Blackwood. "You and I will have dinner together. I'll pick up some Chinese in town."

Quick as a chameleon changing color, Norman altered his intonation. "Awesome. I'll have the Ma Yi Shang Su or the Moo Goo Gai Pan," he said.

Blackwood smiled.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," said Blackwood, tightening his grin.

"What? You want me to eat venison the rest of my life?" inquired Norman.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't laugh," said Blackwood apologetically. "It's funny to hear you rhyme off the menu, that's all. Do we have beer?"

"Yes."

"Okay, see you in a couple of hours," said Blackwood who climbed into the Corvette, started the engine and eased the car slowly down the lane to visit Sheshebens.

He was out of range and did not hear Norman mutter under his breath, 'Maybe sooner'.

***

Following the short drive, Blackwood steered the Corvette into the laneway of Norman Johnson's bungalow. There were two cars parked near the house, one he did not recognize. Sheshebens, playing in the back yard with her son Frank, heard tires on the gravel driveway and came around the corner of the house to greet her visitor. Little Frank ran past her and Blackwood lifted him high in the air. He looked at Sheshebens. She was wearing those tight fitting yoga pants that the city women wear and had a fashionable jean jacket to ward off the chill of the cool autumn air. She reached for her son, offered her cheek to Blackwood but said nothing. He knew immediately that something was different but tendered the kiss regardless. In an embarrassed attempt to conquer the awkwardness, Blackwood stammered, "You look good, Shesh. Did you get another car?"

"Sheshebens looked straight into Blackwood's eyes and delivered the news. "Brian's back."

Blackwood felt the blow to his core. There was a moment of silence. "You took him back, Shesh?" he asked, trying to overcome the shock of it. "After losing the house and all the other stuff?"

"He's Anakausuen's father, James. He's turned a new leaf."

"I hope so," said Blackwood, doubting the possibility.

"The boy is aboriginal," said Sheshebens. "It's better that he lives with his own people. I hope you will understand. What about you and the detective woman?"

"We're friends," said Blackwood. It was all he could think of to say.

Brian came out of the house to join up with them. He wore a tight fitting AC/DC T-shirt and his hair was in a ponytail. Sheshebens went through the introductions. Brian congratulated Blackwood for his role in capturing the serial killer. "We saw it on the news." He glanced at the Corvette. "Nice wheels!"

Blackwood ignored the comment and returned to the vehicle to retrieve a small gift for Frank, which he handed to the boy. He said his goodbyes, exchanged glances with Sheshebens worth a thousand words, and drove to town to buy the Chinese food.

***

"You could have warned me," said Blackwood as he plopped the double-bagged order of Chinese food onto the kitchen table.

"It was not for me to tell," said Norman in his characteristic flat manner that often frustrated Blackwood for its truthfulness. He reached into a low cupboard for a bottle of Glenlivet Single Malt Scotch. He filled a glass halfway and took a long drink. "When did it happen?" he asked.

"Shortly after you left."

"What's your opinion?"

"A snake can get new skin but it is still a snake," said Norman.

Blackwood strolled to the screen door and stared across the farmyard deep in thought. There was a chill in the autumn air and he closed the main door. Norman plunked down two paper plates on the kitchen table and began distributing the Chinese food takeout containers. Blackwood retrieved two beers from the refrigerator and twisted off the caps. He gathered up the paper plates and replaced them with plates from the cupboard.

"Let's use real plates tonight," he said.

"I don't mind," said Norman. "You do the dishes."