Nicole opened her eyes to see daylight punching through the narrow gap in the thick blue curtains. It created a rectangular halo in an otherwise dark and cold bedroom. The frigid air made her nose numb. Suddenly, she was wide awake, well-rested but uneasy.
She looked over to the alarm clock and noticed that its red glow was gone. Evan was still asleep beside her. She cast aside the covers and stood up, putting on her thick robe over her T-shirt and pyjama pants. It was Friday, and she was certain Maiingan would be late for school. She stepped into her deerskin moccasins by the door. The soft rabbit fur of the lining caressed the tender skin between her toes, putting her momentarily at ease.
The chill was harsher out in the hallway. She peeked quickly into the kids’ rooms and saw that both were still sleeping, curled in their thick blankets decorated with their favourite cartoon characters. Maybe it’s earlier than I thought. The battery-powered clock on the far wall of the kitchen indicated it was just after 7:30 a.m. Not too late for school, but barely early enough to get everyone up and ready for the day.
The cold upstairs meant the wood stove in the basement was out. And with the electricity now off too, the baseboard heaters hadn’t kicked in to compensate for the dead fire. Sometimes they would forget to feed the fire before bed, knowing that if it died down, the electric heat would kick in. But power outages happened regularly enough to remind them to stay on top of it.
“Jesus, it’s freezing in here!” she heard Evan say behind her. He walked out into the bright kitchen, wearing a black tracksuit and thick wool socks.
“Yeah, power’s out,” Nicole replied.
“Really?”
Noticing the surprised uptick in his voice, she tried to reassure both of them. “Yeah, we just forgot to put more wood in the stove,” she said. “Remember when this happened last winter?”
His shoulders relaxed slightly. “Oh yeah, eh,” he said. “Guess I better go down and start that up again.” He scratched his head. “Hopefully the power comes back on soon, or it’s just gonna be cereal and cold bread for breakfast!”
Like most of the homes that had been built or brought in pre-fabricated in the last decade, theirs relied heavily on electric appliances. When Evan was a child, his home’s stove and fridge had been fuelled by propane — handy in case the diesel delivery didn’t come through. With a lighter demand and smaller storage tanks, propane didn’t have to be trucked in as regularly.
But the hydro lines from the massive dam to the east now powered homes here, and there were plans to decommission the band’s diesel generators and sell them. There was still diesel in them for contingencies, but the upcoming winter was to be the last that the band paid for trucks to bring in the fuel.
The narrow basement windows gave Evan just enough light to start another fire in the big metal box on the far side of the cold, damp room. Upstairs, Nicole roused the children to get their day started. If the power didn’t come back on within the next hour, school would likely be cancelled. She began thinking of activities to keep them occupied if that was the case.
As she watched the kids saunter into the kitchen, Nicole caught sight of the phone on the wall. Out of curiosity, she picked the handset off its holster and brought it to her ear. The cold plastic chilled her earlobe. She heard nothing. She had a moment of quick panic but stifled it to focus on feeding the children.
They were sitting at the table, eating peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwiches when Evan came back upstairs twenty minutes later. The air inside slowly warmed and the now-familiar silence made for a quiet, comfortable space in the home. Nicole decided to wait until after breakfast to tell Evan about the dead phone.
There was a knock at the front door, and when Evan stood up from the table to look, he could see Nicole’s older cousin Tammy standing on the porch. She smiled and waved, then opened the door and walked in. She was wearing a heavy burgundy coat that made crinkling sounds as she closed the door behind her. “Aaniin!” she called out. Her black hair was tied back in a tight bun that seemed to pull her smile even wider.
“Aaniin!” Evan replied. “Aaniish na? What’s up?”
“Oh, just making the rounds,” she said. Her voice was always louder than anyone else in Nicole’s family. It came in handy as the school’s receptionist. “I see the power’s out over here too?”
“Yeah, musta gone out in the night sometime. We slept in.”
“I think everyone did.”
“We let the furnace go out too. I just got it back going. I guess we’re getting too used to hydro.”
“I was gonna say, I’m pretty sure I can still see my breath in here!” She exhaled slowly through her mouth and tugged at the collar of her jacket. “Anyway, I came by to let youse know that there’s no school today. Phones and internet aren’t working, and we were too lazy to get the good old-fashioned smoke signals going today!” She followed that with big laughter.
Evan shot a puzzled glance at Nicole, who was still in the kitchen. “Landlines aren’t working either?” She grimaced and shook her head. He looked to the floor and pushed that worry out of his mind before turning his attention back to Tammy.
“If you’re the moccasin telegraph, where’s your moccasins then?” Evan looked down at the high brown leather boots she’d bought at a mall on a trip down to Gibson. “Musta been a handsome moose you shot!” He laughed and Tammy scoffed.
“Anyways,” she said, “hopefully we’ll get the power back on this weekend and have school on Monday. I’ll let ya know.”
Evan nodded. “It’s kinda weird to have everything out. When’s the last time we had no satellite, phones, or hydro?”
“I dunno. Couldn’t have been that long ago. Last year maybe,” said Evan.
“You sure? I don’t remember.”
“If not last year, then definitely the year before. Remember how nothing really worked all the time when they first put up that tower and started bringing in those lines?”
“Yeah, I guess so, eh.”
“Don’t worry about it. Geez, back in our day we never had none of this shit!” Tammy was fifteen years older than Evan and Nicole. “You guys should count your lucky stars.”
It was true. He had spent most of his life without cell service and satellite TV, and his parents had grown up without power at all.
“You’re right,” he muttered. “Thanks for coming by and letting us know.”
Nicole walked over to the door with Nangohns trailing behind and Tammy’s face lit up as the little girl ran into her arms. “Oh good morning, my little star!” She bounced the smiling girl in her arms. “Well, guess I should get going. Youse wanna come over for some poker tomorrow night? We’ll be around. Hopefully the lights will be back on!”
“Okay, cool, miigwech,” said Nicole.
“Alright then, you know where to find us.” Tammy put Nangohns down and left.
Evan felt the cold air sneak inside as the door closed. Soon the temperature outside would drop further and the first big snowfall loomed. It was a good time to split more wood for the furnace.
Outside, the air was dry and cold. A breeze bit his high, broad cheeks. The clear sky seemed unthreatening but there would be a storm soon. There always was. That’s when his job would really get busy, clearing snow from roads and driveways with the band’s snowploughs. Evan’s job responsibilities changed season to season. Springtime usually meant he was out on the roads, patching holes and laying gravel on asphalt that had washed away in the runoff. In the summer, he monitored the water quality at the treatment plant. By fall, he made home visits to make sure pipes, cisterns, and septic tanks were ready for winter. And when the snow fell, he was one of the ploughmen.