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Da
At night, Da
“I don’t think there are any hookers in Pointe au Baril,” Da
“It’s a one-night stand, then,” Ketchum replied. “They sure don’t sound married.”
Another night, there was a prolonged caterwauling of a certain female kind. “This one sounds different from the night before, and the night before that,” Ketchum said.
Whoever the woman was, she went on and on. “I’m coming! I’m coming!” she kept repeating.
“Are you timing this, Da
The young man who opened the door was menacing, and in a mood to fight, but the fight-if you could call it that-was over in a hurry. Ketchum put the guy in a choke hold before the fella had managed to throw more than a punch or two. “I wasn’t lying,” the woman called from the dark room, but by then not even the young man believed her.
It was not how Da
Ketchum got his buck near Byng Inlet, with one shot from his 12-gauge. The next deer season in Ontario, they shot two more bucks-both of them at Still River -and by then the so-called improvements on Charlotte ’s island were complete, including the winterizing. Ketchum and Da
Deer season was over, but Ketchum had brought his 12-gauge. “Just in case,” he told Da
“In case what?” Da
“In case there’s some other critter,” Ketchum replied.
Later, Da
Da
“That’s poaching,” Da
“The Mounties didn’t hear any shots, did they?” Ketchum asked.
“It’s still poaching, Ketchum.”
“If you don’t hear anything, it’s more like nothing, Da
Da
From his new writing shack, Da
Da
Ketchum had come into the writing shack; he’d been hauling water from the lake, and had brought some pasta pots to a near boil on the gas stove. He’d come to inquire if Da
“Do you see that tree, Ketchum?” Da
“I suppose you mean the one the wind has fucked over,” Ketchum said.
“Yes, that’s the one,” Da
“Your dad,” Ketchum told him, without hesitation. “That tree’s got Cookie written all over it, but it’ll be fine, Da
KETCHUM AND DANNY went deer hunting around Pointe au Baril in November of ’86-their third and last deer season together-and they went “camping,” as they called it, on Turner Island in late January of ’87, too. At Da
Da
Ketchum had come to Charlotte ’s island only one time in summer, the same time when the cook had also come and gone. Charlotte never knew that Ketchum had the 12-gauge with him then, but Da
“The rattlesnakes are protected-an endangered species, I think,” Da
In the summer, Charlotte had her boat serviced at Desmasdon’s, the boat works where they dry-docked boats in the winter. Now, when Da
“Hero’s smart enough not to get bitten by a fucking snake, Da