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“Thought I’d stay a day,” Griff said. “Tomorrow, that is. I’ll take off Wednesday morning.”
Wednesday. I’d forgotten what day it was. It startled me, how quickly I’d lost track. I felt unmoored in time.
This place does that to you. It feels eternal, until a plane flies over in the distance to rattle you into the modern world. The planes never come very close. They don’t know that I’m here. And I don’t know if I’d want them to. It could be them and then I definitely don’t want them to know that I’m here.
Back then, of course, I hadn’t heard any plane but Griff’s. I was glad to hear he was staying another day. It meant that I would have time to convince him to take me with him. It also meant that my dad had more time to interfere with my plan, but I would deal with that when it came up.
The first thing we always did was eat. Or get ready to eat. Today that meant skinning the rabbit, which Dad did out back and I didn’t watch. I wish I had. I caught a rabbit once and skinned it, but this is the method I know how to use:
Stare at the rabbit. Pick up your knife. Stare at the rabbit some more.
Put the knife near the rabbit, then pull it back again.
Pick a spot. Maybe the back of the neck, the belly, something like that. Start cutting.
Realize that you are just slicing up the meat and the fur.
Go more carefully.
Realize that it is very hard to skin a small animal with all of its skin attached to all of its other skin.
Cut off the rabbit’s head because that seems like something you have to do eventually anyway, and plus it keeps staring at you.
Start at the neck, sliding the knife in and sort of sawing under the skin.
Continue to mangle the rabbit until you reach the paws.
Stare at the paws.
Chop the paws off.
Finish mangling the rabbit. Pull away a rabbit skin that looks like an angry ex took scissors to a shirt and then dipped it in punch. And then glued meat to it.
Carefully scrape off all the meat. Pick fur off of it.
Keep the skin in case you can use it, even though it’s all sliced to bits.
The end.
When Dad came back inside it looked like he’d just taken the rabbit’s clothes off, so I know he couldn’t have used my method. It was skinny without its fur, long and pink.
Griff and I got to talking while we waited for him. I learned that he had a daughter who was six years old and lived with his “lady friend” in Toronto, and he missed her something fierce.
“I bought that bag for her,” he said. “But I figured she’s got lots of bags. Being in a big city and all. But I got to thinking you’ve only got the one, and that’s not right. Not for a girl. Right?”
I nodded. “A lot of girls like bags,” I said. I didn’t point out that I was ten years older than his daughter—and even when I was her age, I wasn’t really the kittens-and-rainbows type.
“I think God was whispering to me to bring it to you,” he said. My dad looked up, looked back down. Dad didn’t seem to mind when Griff talked about God. Maybe because Griff’s idea of God was very odd.
“I’m going down to see her, and I’ll buy her another bag. Just like that one. And then you can have the same bag, and it’ll be like you’re friends,” Griff said.
“When are you going down to see her?” I asked. Really I meant, how long are you going to be gone.
“’Bout a week,” Griff said. “Found a job down there finally, so I’ll get to see her a lot more.”
“You’re going permanently?” I said. My dad looked up in alarm.
“Job’s for eight months,” Griff said. “But if I do well, they’ll keep me past that.” He swept his cap off his head and held it in front of his chest, kneading it in both hands. “So I won’t be coming up here anymore. At least not before the summer. Next summer. Maybe.”
