Wendigo Whispers: Spruce Bay, #1

By Alex McGilvery

Terror and madness wait to strike...

Eager to start fresh, Leigh accepts a teaching job in the remote northern community of Spruce Bay. The fading mining community is rife with abandoned homes that breed a class of listless alcoholics and violent gangs. Resentment and hopelessness fill the cold air. Nevertheless, Leigh loves the town and the kids in her classes.

Just as she begins believing everything will work out, she has a second psychotic break from reality. And another teacher is murdered ... that same night.

Leigh remembers harsh, evil whispers and an ax. Nothing more.

As the body count rises, Leigh and her husband become the last line of defence against an evil force that wants to destroy the town.

Ten percent of all profit goes to indigenous culture and language programs.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Celticfrog Publishing
• Release date: Jan 7, 2018
• ISBN: 9780995992610

Alex McGilvery

Alex has been writing stories almost as long as he's been reading them. He lives in Kamloops, BC and spends a great deal of time figuring out how to make his characters work hard at life. His two dogs, named after favourity scotch malts are a big reason he doesn't suffer as much as his characters.

Book preview

Last Year

The voices in her head wouldn’t have been nearly so bad if they just made sense. A discordant children’s chorus instead of words, sometimes they were barely audible and other times they drowned out even her own thoughts.

Leigh gritted her teeth and picked up the next report card. She carefully opened her file and looked at how this child, Adam, had improved through the year. He still wasn’t reading quite up to his grade level, but at least he was reading now and had handed in a book report on his favourite Batman comic book. She made careful notes and put the appropriate letters in the correct boxes. Then she double-checked everything.

The voices got louder. They didn’t like doing report cards. Sometimes they made her write strange things in the wrong places. It was a good thing that Jim didn’t mind checking them over for her. He'd caught her comment that it was nice that Danielle was happy with her new fangs.

Leigh checked the final box on the final report card. The voices screeched and wailed so loudly that her hands trembled and tears leaked from her eyes. She ran away from the table before her tears ate holes in the paper. The pressure in her head was inescapable.

A vision came to her. She needed to relieve the pressure. Just a small hole in her skull would do it, maybe ten millimeters, certainly no more than fifteen. Leigh felt her way down to Jim’s workshop. The cordless drill would be best. She put the battery in place and began looking through his collection of drill bits. Who knew there were so many kinds of drill bits? She was wondering what kind the doctors used. The pointy ones looked quick, but they might go too far and damage her brain. She needed her brain.

The voices didn’t leave her much room anymore, but it was all she had. She decided on a drill bit that looked almost flat with just little points. It should cut a neat little hole; just enough to let the voices out. As she dug through the drill bits to find the right size the box fell to the floor. When she put the drill down so she could pick the bits up, she knocked a glass jar full of nails to the floor too. It smashed so loudly it momentarily drowned out the voices. She heard steps coming down to the basement.

Jim. She held up one of the flat bits. Do you think this is the right one? I need just a little hole.

He looked alarmed. Didn’t he know this was what she needed?

"It’s called trepanning, she said to reassure him. They used to do it all the time."

It’s time, Leigh, Jim said, We're going to the hospital.

OK, she said, The doctors will know what to do. The voices sounded a little mournful, but she was firm with them. She wasn’t going to drill any holes in her head if she could get professionals to do it for her.

Leigh pushed herself to her feet. Her hands were covered with blood. The voices in her head giggled as Jim led her up the stairs.

Now

Leigh unpacked the last box, flattened it and added it to the stack in the porch for Jim to bundle up and take away. She looked at the dishes in the cupboard. They looked all right. The kitchen was completely different than in their old house in Winnipeg. That kitchen had cabinets and counter space to spare. It even had an island with stools along one side that they never used.

The trailer they were renting had counters in an L shape with dark brown fake wood cabinets. At least there was room for a decent sized kitchen table and chairs. They’d sold the furniture that wouldn’t fit in the trailer, but Leigh would have hated to part with the old oak table and chairs that were the first things she and Jim had bought as a couple.

Leigh went through the kitchen again reminding herself where she had put everything, then went to the room they had set aside for her office. It had bookshelves on all four walls with a gap for the window and door. Her desk sat in the middle like an island. The curriculum guidelines for her new class were spread out on the desk. It had been a year since she had last been in a classroom. Leigh hoped she hadn’t forgotten everything she knew about teaching.

When Jim got home she was still sitting at her desk. Books and texts were piled around her as she read updates from the Ministry of Education web site.

Oh, I'm sorry. Leigh stretched until her joints creaked. I meant to have supper ready.

It’s OK. Jim waved a bag at her. One of the other RCMP members went fishing, so she sent me home with some fillets. It will only take a few minutes to cook them up.

Leigh pulled vegetables from the fridge and washed them as the fish cooked. Jim put fries in the oven so she put cauliflower in to roast and readied the green beans for the microwave.

How was your day? she said.

It went all right. I only got lost a couple of times, but nothing serious. The Staff-Sergeant told me that this could be a tough town, but I haven’t seen it yet. You wouldn’t believe the graffiti though. They must use rock climbing gear to get to some of those places.

How about you? Jim put knives and forks out on the table, You ready to go?

I hope so. Leigh put the beans in and set the time. There was a time when I could do this in my sleep.

You’ll be fine.

They ate dinner and watched children play outside.

Leigh woke in the morning shaking from a dream. She climbed out of bed and took a long hot shower. By the time she finished both the dream and the shakes had faded away. She poured herself a coffee and made toast. Jim had already left for his shift, so she didn’t have anyone to distract her from her nerves. When the toast popped, she opened the cupboard to get the peanut butter.

Relax, the note said, you’ll be fine. Leigh laughed and finished fixing her breakfast. Somehow the note settled the nerves giving her the worst case of butterflies since her practice teaching days.

The school was the most unusual setup Leigh had ever seen. It was attached to the mall forming the town’s equivalent of a downtown. The mall also held all the town offices, the police station and library. She was sure it would be nice in the winter months to be able to run all her errands without going out into the cold.

The school was Kindergarten to Grade 12 but the different sections of the school had their own entrances so the primary age children weren’t mixed in with the teens. Leigh pulled the door to the primary hallway open and went to her classroom. Jim had helped her decorate with bright colours and pictures to support the children’s learning.

Maps of the World, Canada and Manitoba hung on the walls. Leigh planned to add pins to show Spruce Bay and where each of the children had been. Other posters highlighted virtues she hoped they would all strive for: honesty, kindness, courage. She looked at the poster for courage. It was of a young girl taking the first step along a long rope crossing a gorge. Leigh could empathize with her.

Banners showed the multiplication tables; vocabulary builders ran along the top of the bulletin board - stuff to help keep the brighter children from getting bored. Jim had built her a little greenhouse they would soon plant with different seeds.

Leigh stood in the room and turned slowly in a circle. She and Jim had done a good job. This is a room in which children will learn. I can do this. She missed the smell of chalk, but the school had gone to whiteboards and erasable markers. The squeak of the marker as she wrote her name on the board didn’t compare to the rasp of chalk. The bright colours would be fun.

Mrs. Dalrymple, she wrote it in black without any flourishes; just as she would have on a chalkboard in white. She wasn’t enough of an artist to create the colourful scenes she glimpsed through the doors of other classrooms on the way in.

Good morning. The tenor voice made her jump. She spun around to see the principal looking around the room. It will do. He walked the rest of the way into the room. I like to be part of the hiring process, but was away at a course when they hired you. I am willing to think the Superintendent made a good choice.

Thank you, Leigh was sure he could hear the sarcasm she was trying to keep out of her voice. Mr. Damowski had told her that the principal was a control freak. Mr. Ryckle, when I was being interviewed they didn’t know whether we would have a dedicated phys ed teacher.

We don’t. Mr. Ryckle shuffled his weight from one foot to the other, as if he wanted to run out of the room, Mr. Tanist from the High School side will be able to help out a bit with some of the extracurricular sports, but you will be on your own for gym.

That’s fine, Leigh said, I planned for that just in case.

Good. Mr. Ryckle looked around the room again and left without saying anything else. He reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t bring the name to mind. No matter. I have more important things to do.

The bell rang and she headed for the gymnasium where the children would be lined up before walking to their class. They undoubtedly knew the school better than she did, but Mr. Damowski had said this was the way it had always been done. Mr. Damowksi was a new trustee on the Board, but familiar with the school, since he’d retired from teaching only the year before. The superintendent had a heart attack shortly after hiring Leigh; she hoped it wasn't because he'd heard of her past. The trustee was filling in.

The gym was full of students and their noise. She could barely hear herself think. Leigh’s heart began to race. She was just about ready to bolt for the door when a very tall man strolled out onto the stage and held up his hand. A wave of silence washed across the room as older students fell silent and faced the front. In a surprisingly brief time the last voice was stilled and he dropped his hand.

Welcome back to Spruce Bay Community School, the tall man said - his voice soft, but exceptionally clear. Even without a public-address system Leigh was certain that every student heard every word.

My name is Mr. Jackson. The tall man pointed to himself. I’m going to introduce the teachers for the year to you. Some you will know, some are new. You will give each teacher the full respect due to them.

Yes, Mr. Jackson, the children said in ragged chorus.

Mr. Ryckle is Principal, and he will teach the Grade Eight Class.

Some taller children stood up around the gym and looked toward the stage where Mr. Ryckle strode out to wave at the children.

The standing children walked through the crowd to the front then followed Mr. Ryckle out of the room.

Miss Dupuis will be teaching Grade Seven and the French classes. Mr. Jackson said and an older woman strolled out in front of the stage. She lifted her hand slightly and the next group of children followed her out.

Mr. McRoy will be teaching the Grade Fives and Sixes this year. Leigh heard a piercing whistle from the back of the gym. She turned with the children to see a large man in a wheelchair. He waved and another mob of children left the gym.

Mrs. Dalrymple will be teaching Grade Three and Four this year. Leigh spun and looked in shock at Mr. Jackson. They never mentioned a split class. The largest group of children yet stood and looked around for their teacher. She couldn’t whistle like Mr. McRoy and she didn’t want to dash for the stage. So, she took a page from Mr. Jackson and just held her arm up. First one then another student saw her and pointed her out to their neighbours. When it looked like all the students had seen her, Leigh walked away toward her classroom

There weren’t enough chairs for all the students, though if they crowded a little there were enough tables.

It looks like we are going to be full this year, Leigh said when they were all in the room. I’ll ask the custodian about getting more chairs in a few minutes. For now, I want all the Grade Threes by the windows and the Grade Fours by the wall. If you don’t have a chair, just sit on the tables for the moment.

The children took a few minutes to sort themselves out. Leigh could see a few pairs she’d probably have to break up later, but she decided to leave them for the moment. Two boys at the very back by the door made her wonder if they were in the right class they were so much bigger than the rest of the class. She could sort that out later.

My name is Mrs. Dalrymple, Leigh said.

What kind of name is that? one of the smaller Grade Three students asked.

What is your name? Leigh asked.

I'm Macky, the boy said.

Dalrymple is an old Scottish name, Leigh said. She walked over to the map of the world and pointed to Scotland. My grandparents came from here many years ago.

Cool, Macky said.

Ahem, Mr. Ryckle stuck his head in the door and gave it a jerk. Leigh nodded at him.

I’ll be back in a minute. While you are waiting, you will find paper and crayons on the shelves. Take one piece of paper and make yourself a sign of your name. You can decorate however you like.

First or last name? one of the big boys at the back asked.

Just first name unless you want to put your last name on too. Leigh stepped out into the hall.

We don’t encourage the students to sit on the desks, Mr. Ryckle said.

There aren’t enough chairs, I was going to get the custodian to bring some more chairs during recess.

Nonsense, the custodial staff have more important things to do. Mr. Ryckle stepped back into the room. Tom, Steve, Anna, go to room twenty-four and bring back twelve chairs. That is four chairs each. The three students, two of which were the big boys at the back of the room walked down the hall.

I expected you to plan appropriately for your class.

I didn’t know until this morning that I had a split class.

Didn’t you get my email?

No, I must have missed it.

One of the new teachers changed their mind at the last minute about coming here. We are short-staffed so you’ll have to make do. I hope that won’t be a problem.

No, Mr. Ryckle. It won’t be a problem.

I also expect my teachers to learn their students’ names and not need silly signs to remind them.

This is how I learn their names. Leigh took a deep breath and bit back the rest of what she wanted to say.

This is why I like to hire my own teachers. Mr. Ryckle walked away.

The students were mostly hunched over their papers drawing carefully around the letters spelling out their names.

Leigh wandered through the class and watched them work. When the bigger children returned with the extra chairs, all the students settled at their desks. It was going to be crowded, but none of the children looked like they cared.

Put your signs on your desk in front of you. If you finish your work early you can work more on them later. There are readers on the shelves. Tom, Steve would you give one reader to each pair of students.

What about the Grade Fours? A girl with a pale complexion and very black hair near the front raised her hand. Leigh looked at her sign.

Georgia, we are going to start with these readers, but I will have some harder readers for those who want them.

That won’t be me, teach, Tom said. I like easy.

So do I, I just never seem to get it. Leigh opened her reader and told the class what page they would start on.

They read through a story about two children who go shopping with their mother then have ice cream on the way home. Leigh looked at her students. At least half of them looked like they were at least partly Cree. One or two of their name signs were decorated with what looked like Cree letters. The rest of the students were a mix of faces that could have come from anywhere in the world. It was going to be a challenging class to teach. She looked forward to it.

They moved from reading to math when one of the students wondered how they could afford all the food on the list and still get ice cream. She had the students suggest how much the different things on the shopping list might cost and wrote them on the board. She had done some research the week before and suggested some corrections to their estimates. All the prices were much higher than what she was used to. In the end, they came to a total of how much the shopping trip would cost.

How much do you think the ice cream would cost? Leigh asked after they finished adding the numbers.

Don’t know, Teach, Tom said, There ain’t an ice cream shop in town. ‘sides my dad wouldn’t buy all that stuff. We'd catch fish and eat that.

Rabbit too, Steve said.

Wild rice, another student, Jamie, said.

I don’t like wild rice, Georgia said.

Me neither, but it doesn’t stop me from eating it. Jamie rolled his eyes. Better wild rice than nothing.

It sounds like you are used to different foods than I am, Leigh said, What kind of fish does your dad catch, Tom?

Mostly pickerel, but some goldeye and trout and stuff, jacks too.

My brother uses snares to catch rabbits, Jamie said. I don’t mind them, but it gets a little boring after a bit.

Bring some rabbit by the house and my dad will trade you a little moose for them.

Leigh looked up to see Mr. Ryckle glaring at her from the doorway. He didn’t say anything, but Leigh wondered how he managed to do any teaching if he was spending all his time outside her class.

By the end of the day Leigh had a pretty good sense of the class. Georgia was bright but self-centered. Macky would talk all day about anything but what was going on at the moment. Jamie had a serious case of hero worship for Tom and Steve. Anna hadn’t said a word all day. Her sign was just her name, nothing else. The rest of the children were still a mystery, but Leigh knew that she would learn about them in the coming weeks.

She packed the things that she needed to take home and heaved a sigh of relief. She’d survived the first day. Now, she needed to manage the rest of the year.

At home, she put some water on for tea and fixed herself a plate of cheese and crackers. Jim worked twelve hour shifts, so he wouldn’t be home for a while yet. She put a casserole together and shoved it into the oven on a low temperature. It would be ready when Jim arrived.

Leigh took her snack down to her office and looked up her email. There was a message from Mr. Ryckle. The time stamp said it arrived in her inbox at 8:50 am that day - five minutes after Mr. Ryckle had left her room that morning. It meant that when they first talked, he might not have known himself she was doubling up.

Well, Leigh said to herself, you wanted the job. She looked up the Grade Four curriculum and started making notes. Georgia wasn’t going to be happy with reviewing Grade Three for very long.

-2-

Over the next weeks Leigh fell in love with her class. They were such an interesting mix of children.

Tom and Steve were both old enough to be in Grade Six. It wasn’t inability that held them back. Mrs. Hall, who taught the Grade Two class said they were out of the class as much as they were in it. They spoke Cree fluently and knew amazing things about the forest surrounding Spruce Bay. Their fathers were among the shrinking number of Cree who were comfortable in the wilderness.

Dad gets along fine, Mrs. Dalrymple, Tom said, and he doesn’t read as well as I do. But it you want to know anything about the bush. He can tell you. We spend most of the summer living off the land. He’s taught me what to eat and how to stay alive out there. Steve nodded along with everything that Tom said.

Well. Leigh waved the reader at the boys. If you can learn all that stuff, then reading should be easy for you.

Words are a lot harder, Steve said. Food in the bush is always food, words keep changing around and I don’t know what they mean.

Things change in the bush too, Anna turned to look at Steve. Some plants are medicine only at certain times. If you eat them at the wrong time or the wrong way, you die. At least with words you can try again as many times as you want.

Tom rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything. Instead he picked up the book and started working one word at a time.

I'm going to be rich someday. He looked up from his book. Dad knows where all the stuff the miners are looking for is. I’ll own the mine and pay people to read to me. He went back to his book, so Leigh didn’t continue the discussion.

Jamie watched the two boys with wide eyes and hung on every word they spoke.

Mines are chancy, he said, I'd like to know how to hunt and stuff. Dad came here to work in the mine and it closed. Now he works at the gas station. It isn’t as good money as the mine, or as fun as hunting. That’s what he says anyway.

Hunting can be chancy too, Steve said, There’ve been days that we eat a lot of green or roots. But when the hunting is good... He rubbed his stomach and the other kids laughed.

I like fishing, Macky said, but I never catch anything but jacks. I'd like to go hunting.

You'd have to stop talking, Tom said, and put on a hat. That hair would scare deer from miles away.

Macky just grinned and went back to his math.

Leigh watched Anna do her work. She didn’t have the struggles or the reluctance of Tom or Steve, but she hated to speak up in class discussion. Her comment to Steve was the most that Leigh had heard her talk since they started. Ms. Hall had told Leigh that Anna had a very good attendance record, once she started living with her grandmother. But she hadn’t started school until she was almost eight, being so much older than the rest of the group seemed to have made her very shy.

William wandered away from his desk to look at what Tom was doing. Tom glared at him.

William, Leigh said, you need to stay in your seat.

Ok, William said, but he stayed watching Tom.

Now, William, Leigh said. The boy sighed and went back to sit down. He was one of half a dozen youngsters who had the telltale signs of fetal alcohol syndrome. They too were a mix of white, Cree and others. No group had a monopoly on tragedy. Sally came up behind her to wrap her in a bear hug with no warning. Leigh gently untangled her and sent her back to her seat too. Like William, she wanted to belong to the group, but she wasn’t sure how to go about it. The class tolerated her, William and the others

Mrs. Dalrymple, Enji raised his hand. can we play soccer at gym?

We’ll see, Enji, Leigh said.

Even when he was sitting still Enji had the appearance of a wound spring, but was unfailing polite and helpful. Oddly, his ebony skin wasn’t the subject of any teasing.

Excuse me, Georgia said. The girl was the smallest of the Grade Fours, I’ve finished the reader. Do we have anything else to read? She was reading through every book in the room at an astonishing pace. It didn’t matter how deep her nose was in a book, she always had her hand up first for every question. She was usually right too.

There are some books on the shelves under the windows, Georgia. Leigh pointed toward them.

I read all those last year, Georgia heaved a dramatic sigh. Leigh had a book sitting in her bag for her lunchtime reading. She didn’t think there was anything inappropriate in it. She pulled the book out and handed it to Georgia.

I’ll bring some more books from home, Georgia. Make a list of the kinds of books you like to read.

The kind with words, Georgia opened the book and started reading.

How many pages are in that book? Tom asked.

There are two hundred and fifty-six. After flipping quickly to the back of the book.

So if there are two pages on each paper page, how many paper pages are there? Leigh asked. Tom sighed and pulled out a pencil and paper.

Leigh let her plans flex and change as she got to know the children. Math work would shift to a discussion of the number of fish it took to buy enough gas to drive to the nearest city to go shopping. From there it would become social studies as they tracked the route on the maps on the wall and wondered why the roads weren’t straight. Gym was mostly an excuse to get the children tired out so they would sit reasonably quietly through Miss Dupuis’ French class.

The weekly staff meetings were a chance to get to know the other teachers who taught on the elementary side of the school. Mr. Ryckle always opened the meeting.

We have a parent/teacher day coming up early in the school year, he said, It is important to build whatever relationship that is possible with the parents. Find ways to encourage them to be involved in their child’s education.

That’s difficult when so few of them come to parent/teacher night, Miss Dupuis said. We have this discussion every year. Maybe it’s time we tried something new.

What would you suggest, Fran? Mr. Ryckle said, We can’t just not have parent/teacher night. I know it is hard, but we need to do what we can.

I have a couple of parents who are volunteering to help in the Grade One, Mr. Jackson said. They seem very interested, maybe it will continue this year.

Leigh looked at the tall teacher. He didn’t look like a Grade One teacher, but his students adored him and when she looked in on his class they appeared to be having a great deal of fun.

Hmmph, Mrs. Hall said, We can only hope.

Fran winked at Leigh and the meeting rolled on. They weren’t much different