Agency

In Which the Bones Begin to Tell Their Story

later that week

As quickly as the bones had piled up in their artifact crates, so had the bills.

Each week, another ten thousand dollars was owed to Papa.

Berry had begun to understand something about the life of serious drug addicts -- not the recreational kind, but the real heavyweight addicts; the ones who were going through $1,000 of heroin a day and had sold all of their personal belongings to fund their habit -- even as the plunger dropped, they had to be worrying about where their next hit would come from.

Unlike an addict, Berry hadn't had to stoop to selling his personal effects because (also unlike an addict), he had managed to keep his job. But that, in itself, was a tenuous miracle that relied in many ways on him continuing to prostitute himself despite growing reservations.

So maybe he wasn't so entirely unlike an addict as he liked to think.

By this point, he had drawn as much as he felt he could reasonably fudge from the Atrabax account. Any more and alarms would go off back at Janus-Klein. Pharma might be notoriously loose with their budgets, but this was approaching ridiculous. By all accounts, they'd already "spent" eighty thousand dollars for a couple of transit ads and some shelf toppers. Not that it was entirely out of range. The problem was that none of the actual billings had gone through yet.

Those were still to come.

Berry's primary concern was to come up with a way to increase Janus-Klein's billing potential so he could cover the real billings when they arrived. He needed to sell the client on something that sounded like it would cost a lot, but would actually cost very little. That would allow him to balance the missing funds.

At least he wasn't going to have to dip any deeper. The final payment to Papa had been made, and the archaeologist was ready to deliver his final report. That, as they understood it, should be the end of it. The Pandora's Box that had been opened by the Russians' bobcat would now, finally, be reclosed.

Papa's report sat between them on the kitchen table. It was a coil bound stack of papers that had an official-looking "Ontario Archeological Society" stamp on the front but otherwise reminded Berry of a hastily produced university essay, complete with what looked like a coffee stain on the cover.

Papa's meaty hand started flipping over pages.

"It's just blah, blah, blah government stuff until page 15. That's what you care about. That's the list of everything we found." He begins reading it out to them, upside down, as familiar with the items on that list as a kindergarten teacher with an attendance list.

...excerpt from page 15 of Papadakis Archeological Services' official report to the Ministry of Government and Consumer Services...

---

The following items were recovered from the rear exterior of the Spruce Street domicile. All items found within 10 meters of original discovery:

Complete skeletal remains of an adult female, minus one femur (in absentia - removed by chief coroner's office). Bones are of Indigenous descent, dating 1650-1700s.

One (1) comb constructed of moose antler and bone, elaborately engraved with figure of a Black Bear. Item is of Indigenous origin, dating pre-1750.

Fifty-eight (58) Various small animal bone and glass stones, likely decorative beadwork from a wampum belt. Indigenous origin, dating pre-1750.

One (1) Iron hatchet/axe head, 6 inches. Indigenous origin, dating pre-1750.

Seven (7) Flint arrowheads, 3 inches. Indigenous origin, dating pre-1750.

Fetal remains as consistent with seven months gestation, found approximately 8 meters from originating body. European descent, dating early to mid-1900's.

---

Berenice gasped when Papa read out the last item.

"A baby?" she asked.

Unperturbed, Papa shrugged. "No relation. Different time, different ancestry. Most likely, a stillbirth from the household. Not unusual to find in this neighbourhood. Very poor once."

Berry shuddered to think of all the mummified babies that could be hidden under the neighbourhood's gardens. It was an uncomfortable thought.

"You're lucky it's not related," continued Papa. "Law says we have to survey 10 meters in all directions from anything that is anthropologically significant. If that baby was of the same time period..." he shook his head and made a protective finger gesture as if warding off the evil eye. "We would have to do another 10 meters. Would have meant going into your neighbour's backyard. Also at your expense."

Berenice paled. Neighbourhood relations were already strained, not to mention their bank accounts. Berry had explained to her that he'd asked for an advance on his bonus at work to cover Papa's fees.

"Well, thank god for that," she said, making a discreet cross under the table. She wasn't religious per se, but when dealing with human remains, it felt prudent, as Papa had done, to ward off the spirits.

"So," clarified Berry. "You're saying that's it, then? We're done?"

"Ehhhh," said Papa, making a so-so gesture that Berry did not like the look of at all. "Problem is, what we have here is a burial site for a Native Person of historical significance. This is clear from both the remains and surrounding items: possibly burial offerings or personal possessions. On top of that, they are a unique combination. Native women were not normally buried with tools of war and the bear engraving--" he held his hands up "--I think this symbolizes something interesting. All this meaning, we have to consult with the Indigenous community leaders to determine if they want to conduct a second survey of the site."

Papa paused while everyone digested this unwelcome bit of news.

"Don't worry," he added, patting Berenice's hand. "I will fill out the paperwork for that. You just wait for my call."