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“Nowhere to go.” I kick the remaining snow from my boots before slipping them off. I hang my winter gear on hooks by the door and walk past Netti to the bathroom.
The water from the sink is frigid. During my first winter in the cabin, the pipes froze. Though I was lucky enough that they didn’t burst, I had to have them better insulated before the following year. Considering it’s just now the beginning of winter, I can only hope the pipes don’t freeze again before spring.
“I was going to try to cook something,” Netti says as I emerge, “but I’ve never cooked on a fire like this. I wasn’t sure how to do it.”
“Just like a stove,” I say briskly. “You just have to be a little more careful not to burn the place down in the process.”
“I suppose that’s true,” she says with a nervous laugh.
“Watch.” I say little else as I place a pot of rice on the fireplace hook to cook and then get out a cast iron skillet. I cook up some caribou meat and vegetables to go with the rice while Netti watches.
When the meal is ready, Netti jumps up to retrieve plates for us. She flitters around with a nervous smile on her face, trying to do things to help. I should say something to make her feel more at ease, but I don’t know what to say. I spent my formative years locked up, and the social niceties of regular society are simply something I never learned.
“How long do you think the storm will last?” she asks.
I glare at her.
“I know, I know,” she says as she holds her hands up, “you aren’t a meteorologist. You must have some idea though.”
“Hopefully just a day or two,” I say. “You never really know until it’s over. I don’t usually pay much attention. Once it sets in, I just wait until spring.”
“You just stay here for months?”
“Yeah.”
“By yourself? You don’t go anywhere?”
“I prefer to be alone.”
“I guess I’ve ruined that.”
“Yes, you have.” It’s a shitty thing to say, but it’s the truth. Storm or not, I don’t want her to get too comfortable here. As soon as I’m able, I’ll take her somewhere else.
Anywhere else.
“Where do you think you’re going to go anyway?” My tone is harsher than I intend, but ultimately, I’m going to need an answer.
“I don’t know.” She looks away, biting at her lip and rubbing her hands together. “I was going to try to make it to Yellowknife, but that didn’t work out so well. I guess I should go back to Fort Providence.”
“Do you know someone there?”
“No. It’s just the last city I was in.”
I snort at her use of the word “city.” Fort Providence, though larger than Whatì, is just barely a hamlet. If I can get the Jeep to Edzo, there’s an all-weather road to Fort Providence. The trek is even farther than Yellowknife, but if I drove her, I’d be rid of her.
I’m tempted to ask her a hundred questions, beginning with how in the hell she ended up in Fort Providence, let alone Whatì. Though tourist fishing is decent business in the summer months, no one comes this way in winter. There isn’t a fancy hotel in town, and the main entertainment is Dene Hand Game. She obviously isn’t Dene, and there aren’t too many people around competing in Hand Game who didn’t grow up playing. I’ve tried, and I’m terrible at it.
I don’t ask her because I’m pretty sure I already know the answer. It’s the same reason I am here. There’s only one motive that brings someone this far north—to escape something or someone in the south. If I start asking questions, I’m going to get more information than I want to hear. Best case, she won’t want to talk about it. Worst case, she’ll tell me everything and then want to know how I got here.
“I assume you don’t have any money.”
“No,” she says quietly, “I ran out shortly after I got to Fort Providence.”
“Yellowknife is a better destination,” I say. “A lot more people. Maybe someone would give you a job or something.”
“I don’t know…” She shakes her head as her voice trails off, confirming my suspicions.
Those who don’t want to be found don’t go looking for a job in a city where they might be recognized. It’s part of the reason I don’t go there more than once a year and never stay long when I do. I’m technically a fugitive though I don’t think anyone cares enough to actually go looking for me.
