Incidents in the Life of Markus Paul Read Online Free Page B

walked home from church with his missal tucked up under his arm, “no one is sure, are they?”
    Markus realized now, years later, that he himself had felt shame when he heard this, and a deep betrayal. The betrayal came because most of the reserve wanted Roger Savage’s confession, and most wanted his old house torn down and a lodge put up to perhaps bring in sportsfishers. Roger’s place hampered this because it sat directly in front of the pools over which Roger claimed riparian rights. Now no one wanted to blame Roger in order to get this house and these pools, but no one was foolish enough not to know that if he was blamed, this house and these pools would be easier to access.
    Everyone wanted this, and Markus’s grandfather himself became an inhibitor of this. Markus knew he should have trusted his grandfather more back then, and years later, in 2006, he was spurred on because of how his grandfather had been treated.
    For many had felt that a real chief, someone like Isaac Snow, could get Roger’s pools for them and confiscate his house. Not for the little recreation centre that old Amos wanted, but for a big lodge for rich white men to come and pay money to fish. When asked by some of Markus’s young friends what he would do about all of this, Amos only said: “The rec centre is what I am concentrating on now. To get that done—the rest will blow over. The school is built here and we have two Micmac instructors. Why, we are the first nation in the province to have this happen.” He smiled, delighted, and then frowned. “But this other stuff—well, who can say it was more than an accident? Do you remember Roger Savage doing anything that was even close to this? I know he had trouble and got in fights at dances—but, well, that was different. Besides, the police have taken him in three times now, and have brought him back. If they wanted to charge him they would have. We will have to let the police decide.” And he smiled once more.
    “But they don’t want to charge him because he is white,” some said.
    Amos did not choose to answer this. He simply shrugged. He knew this was not true. If not because of Hector, then because of where the load itself had dropped. No, it was dangerous to all concerned in the hold, the white men as well as Hector, so they would charge him if they had to.
    But to Joel Ginnish, who had tried to be patient, it seemed Amos was afraid that if he made a ruckus he would not get the recreation centre built—and that was the reason for his silence. Some also believed he was afraid to call people racist.
    Markus, pondering the case for years, would remember how he himself had acted.
    “But there are racists,” Markus told his grandfather—somewhat condescendingly.
    “Oh, son, yes, I know,” Amos said. But he said he was not thinking of Roger Savage when he thought this, nor was he thinking only of white men.
    Markus remembered, because everyone was saying how deliberately Roger had set Hector up, that he felt his grandfather was a fool. And everyone said that Isaac Snow would take care of it for them. And Joel Ginnish would do what he had to do. That to spite the old man, no one wanted the recreation centre now.
    The idea of the old chief vacillating put more pressure upon Hector’s family—his father, his mother and his mother’s elderly wheelchair-bound uncle—to accept the condolences of some of the men who now wanted their attention, or at least wanted to use the death of Habisha’s son for attention. (That this could not be stated shows how sensitive the subject was.) What was unfortunate was that Habisha knew that some of the very men offering condolences had teased Hector the most, and that on more than one occasion she had to tell them to leave him alone. That he was different. Once some of the boys had painted Hector’s ears blue as a joke.
    She also knew her first-born, Joel Ginnish, was a terrifying presence in her house, but Isaac was invited by Joel to visit