Aiti

By Kelly Winsa

Margy lives alone. One night just before Christmas 1946 there is a knock on the door.

Already incapable of mirth Margy opens it to find her youngest brother standing there holding a child. What do you want, she says.

Here is Rose, says her brother John. Rachel is sick again.

You mean drunk, says Margy.

Just let me in. John pushes past her. Inside the disheveled kitchen sits their other sister Inith.

My husband has been living with another woman Inith says.

All three sit while the sleeping girl Rose lies on a bed by the window. They start to dance and soon John has left and the women have gone to bed.

Early in the morning before sunrise Margy awakens to screaming. Someone is hurt. It is Rose awakening to a dark room and no one she knows. A drunk parent can be better than no one.

Margy falls off the bed and then goes into the other room. Rose is mollified but only just. Tell me a story she says.

And so it begins the story of Aru, the Last Chieftess.

 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kala healing Works Press
• Release date: May 27, 2022
• ISBN: 9781778233920

Kelly Winsa

Before becoming a writer Kelly designed clothing in Toronto. When her first child was born she stayed home and took writing classes. Writing in Hawaii, Canada, and France, she is inspired by the connections between people, the love each person shows another, and adventures.

Book preview

Water runs fast over stones. A young man dressed in animal skins, paddles quickly in a dugout on a river.

He cuts through the water, moving the canoe easily, his youthful face full of concentration, skirting obstacles. A calm bay arrives; the youth pulls up his paddle and drifts. He watches a butterfly fly slowly towards him.

The water makes a tinkly sound.

An eagle appears in the sky. The wind blows the feathers on its head as it flies high over the river. It turns in a half-circle in the blue sky and leaves behind the river and past that, the vast system of lakes and tributaries. A bear runs over smooth rock in the distance.

Loud drums pound through the wind and sky.

1946

A black Cadillac stops at a light on the deserted street. The night is dark, the town still.

There are cold snow banks with holes where children have dug caves in the side of the road.

John, the driver, twenty-five but with a younger face, rubs his hands together. His long bangs curl over his forehead and he shakes them off. His cold breath hangs over the dash. He pounds it with his fist and the heater starts to whir. The light turns green.

Outside the car, dry leaves left on the pavement curl over beside the turning wheels.

They turn into feathers and lift up, disappearing in the dark night, which seems to go on forever.

Inside the car, John drives through the town. It happens quickly. Soon he arrives in open country where flat farmland stretches out on either side. Soon he leaves this and drives through columns of tall trees.

Inside the car, Rose, seven, lies in the wheel well, wrapped in a wool blanket. Her long auburn ringlets spill around her head. Rose sleeps, her face tight.

John drives through countryside and small towns. The land looks cold. He turns on the radio and Tommy Dorsey plays Opus One. John swings his bangs and taps the steering wheel lightly.

John turns abruptly onto one lane with a steel edifice around it. He gets closer to the windshield, crosses over water on a long bridge. A bump as the levels change and the car is on a dirt road. Overhead, an eagle flies as John continues. He is on a large island. There is little light. Manitoulin Island is the largest freshwater island in the world.

The crescent moon hides behind a cloud.

Three Weeks Earlier

Along single road lines a small town. The road is lined with buildings; the Chamber of Commerce, Al’s Hardware, Evelyn’s Coffee. At one end sits the Town Hall with the emblem of the Lion’s Club at its front. A few men stand outside the Hall, talking. Their breath makes cold puffs around them.

At the other end of the street is Wilson’s General Store, its paint fresh, the few steps to the doorway clean of snow. A large sign, Santa, drinking a Coke, stands beside the front door.

Inside, the lights are bright and big band music plays. Some women laugh as a man with a deep voice tells a joke. The old floors creak from years of use and shine up through layers of wax.

An old Plymouth travels and stops in front of Wilson’s General Store. The crisp winter sky is cloudless blue. A woman gets out of the car on the driver’s side and circles to the front of the car, unblocks the latch and heaves the top up.

An elegant dark felt hat tips up from under the hood. It is Margy, 47, and stylishly good-looking, with a curl around her lip. Margy is a woman who looks like she could live in any cosmopolitan city. She is well-dressed and has pearls on her gloves. Her hair is impatiently tied back. She glares at the smoke coming out of her hood.

Margy looks up, Jesus H. Christ. Damn woman forgot the water again.

The door of Wilson’s General Store opens and two twin spinsters come out. When they see Margy, they turn around and go back in.

The passenger door of the Plymouth opens into the smoke. Rose steps out of the car She is dressed in her good coat and her long red ringlets fall down her back underneath her hat.

What is all that smoke?

Margy slams down the hood. The two spinsters, watching from the door, jump.

Rose watches.

Your Grandmother forgot to take the car to the garage again. Drives all over God’s green earth and leaves me with her mileage.

Rose, Gramma’s pretty old.

Don’t contradict me.

Rose, Yes, Ma’am.

Margy starts to walk up the stairs to Wilson’s and Rose follows her. She glances here and there at the passersby who look down when they catch her eye.

The front door opens. A dark skinned hand takes Margy’s elbow. Ed is a bewitching man dressed in a spotless white shirt and grey flannels.

Thank-you Ed, I can get in by myself.

Rose pulls her hat off.

Hello, little lady.

Hey, Ed.

Ed steps away, leaving room for Margy and Rose to come in. By now, the spinsters have moved to the front window and are picking up and inspecting apples.

Ed strolls behind the counter. The spinsters pretend to look at some napkins, their heads down.

Margy points to the tall metal sign of Santa holding a Coke by the front door.

Isn’t it a little early for Christmas, Ed? Ed looks up from his counter.

It’s only a month away, Margy. Besides, the kids love it.

Margy pulls off a glove. "I need your phone. Damn it. The car is at it again. My mother drives all over Hell’s Half Acre, selling anything knit by the British.

Leaves me with this pile of junk when she is done."

Ed picks up the phone on the wall. Come on over.

Margy walks to the telephone on the wall. She throws her gloves on the counter and picks up the receiver and scowls. She yells into the receiver, Yes, Liz, it’s me. No I didn’t know that and I don’t care. I need the garage. Get Ernie for me. Margy’s tone is sharp.

Ed and Rose watch Margy, silently.

Margy slams down the phone. Nothing works in this town, she exclaims. The spinsters move towards the front door as the telephone rings.

Margy picks it up. The spinsters get out.

Ernie, sure, Hello. You saw it from your place? Well, why didn’t you just come right over and get it? She pauses and the clock ticks as Ed and Rose look like they aren’t breathing.

Margy breathes in, Yeah, sure. All right. Five minutes. The car is in front of Ed’s store. Oh, I guess you know that. I’ll be at the coffee shop when you’re done. Don’t doddle. No more than half an hour.

Margy slams down the phone again. She turns to see Ed watching her like he knows something she doesn’t. She walks down an aisle and picks up a bag of sugar.

I need butter and eggs and a pack of DuMaurier for Catherine. She can’t seem to buy cigarettes at any time in her life but boy does she like to smoke.

Rose takes off her mittens.

Margy takes a jar off the shelf and examines it.

Rose is here for a couple of days. My sister, Rachel is under the weather again.

Ed takes a pack of cigarettes from the shelf and puts it in a box. He comes out from behind the counter. Rose follows him.

Your Mama’s sick again, eh?

Margy yells across the store. Her mother never had a mind for work and child-rearin’s no different. Rose is here and we get along just fine and that’s the end of that. You got any more records in? She flips through some records on the shelf in front of her.

Ed takes a licorice cigar from the shelf and hands it to Rose. I was just listening to it.

Ed moves behind the counter to his gramophone. He puts the needle on the record. A trumpet fills the room with music. Ed taps his toe.

Margy moves her shoulders. Rose looks up, eating the licorice.

Ed walks up to Margy and takes her hand. Quickly, he puts it on his shoulder and he takes her waist and leads for a moment.

What are you doing? Somebody could come in here at any moment!

Margy takes his hand off her waist. It’ll be dark soon.

Ed looks at the clock. It’s only three o’clock.

Well, the days are getting shorter.

Margy takes her wallet out of her purse.

Well, what do I owe you, Ed? Ed walks behind the counter. He takes a pencil out of a jar