The Country of Ice Cream Star

Part Two - Of Crow My Animose

OF CROW MY ANIMOSE

Riding home, we trace Road 27 through the older woods. This be an hour at a walk, and ain’t no trotting on they broken roads. Be only holes and humps. Horse walk akimbo like a drunk.

Is dusking, and the birch trunks glamour white like paths of moon. A birch leaf yellowing here and there, for autumn now begin to start. Maple crowns patch red and orange, and Road 27 sprinklen somewhere with these color leaves. Be houses on this stretch, but all got ruin roofs, insides gone rotten. Telephone poles still leaning in their rows, but all the wire been scavenge. Heren there a blackness show where we been burn a sleeper house. Some already gone to aspen, some be starting meadow flowers.

Where we turn off 27, stand a sleeper sign, bright orange metal with black letters: ‘BLIND CAUTION CHILD’. Behind it be Blind Caution Pond. This night, the frogs all creaking loud. Where there be frogs, is twenty times mosquitoes, and the night gone chill. We dabbit here to put on jackets.

My jacket’s sort be Patagonia. This word stitch upon its chest. Be light, but unroll to a greedy size. Can wear two shirts beneath. Now I got my pistol in my jeans, nose chilling underneath the belt against my skin. When I tighten Patagonia’s string, gun poke my belly. Then I feel the gunfire that there was, and how this gun been pointing at my face. 

When I turn to look, the roo lie still as sleep. He bound upon the sledge from foot to neck, with rope and orange cord. Only be his fingers loose. But his ghost eyes look and blink. He be cold color like a gun. A feary birchen child.

Keepers been riding queenish on him. When we start, she perching backward on his chest, watch to his face. She guard our safety so. But Keepers quick to bore. Soon she climbing up and down; stand on his thighs precarious. Roo, he got no choice but to endure. So Keepers warm to him in sympathy.

Now she get a blanket, tuck it round the roo against mosquitoes. But this blanket wet for killing flames. The roo begin to shiver.

‘Roo suffer,’ Keepers notice.

Asha Badmouth saying to Driver, ‘Been some blind child drowning in the pond. Become a caution to the others, ya. Blind caution child.’

‘This sign ain’t make no sense,’ say Driver. ‘Mean nothing, be like writing on a shirt.’

Jermaine go whistle in disgust. ‘Foo, you said that last time. Told you then why it be wrong.’

Driver cough, but keep on talking. ‘Sure I say it twice, and it be true both times.’

‘Be foolish every hundred times,’ say Asha.

Keepers shout, ‘My roo be suffering!’

Everybody look. The roo lie in his ropes and shiver. Ain’t look so grandy, lain like that. But his face got a spookery. Bluish eyes look like they knowing thoughts a child ain’t made to hold. I get a shivering fear myself. Driver tense behind me.

‘Ain’t necessary he a roo,’ I say. ‘Can be a sleeper or nobody know what.’

Keepers frown her dignity at me. ‘This one alive, ain’t sleeping. And cannot call it sleeper. This give children fear.’

‘Children name of Keepers,’ say Jermaine.

I say polite, ‘He need a jacket, ya.’

‘Yo sho,’ say Keepers, and polite me back, ‘this be a kindness for myself and for my roo.’ 

I laugh. ‘Be Keepers’ roo, nobody touch this roo without permissions.’

Yo I unzip Patagonia. All my skin dislike this notion, but I throw it to delighting Keepers. She pull the sogging blanket off the roo, and all his body ease. Is like the shiver strip from him. Then the jacket make his face go kind.