Page 84 of Voice to Raise
“But I feel like I do. You didn’t sign up for a weepy guy.”
“That’s true. I didn’t sign up for any guy. Let alone a handsome, charming, sexy one with the most adorable cat ever.”
“You’re lucky he likes you.”
“I consider myself honored.” I tucked him against my shoulder. “Can you talk about it? Or do you just want to rest?”
“It’s been two years. That’s a long time.”
“Or it passes in the blink of an eye. I was just thinking I lost my parents almost seven years ago. Sometimes I forget what their voices sounded like. I have a few videos I could get out and watch…but that feels morbid. Time is supposed to heal. If I keep ripping off the bandage, it never will.”
“That’s true.” He sniffed. “Pike was my best friend when we were growing up. We both lived in virtual poverty—although his was more the system while mine was my parents eschewing all things material.”
I understoodeschewing. I didn’t understandthe system.
“He was Indigenous.”
“Ah.” Then little doubt that systemic racism played a part. All the wealth in the world didn’t change the fact I was Black. I’d been raised to be proud of that—but I witnessed racism of all stripes. “You remained friends?”
“Yeah. Eventually he got tired of living a crappy life in the city and he went back to his reserve in the interior. He used his knowledge to fight within the system for a better life for his family and friends. I don’t know where he found the strength.”
“You were what, going to law school?”
“Living in a comfortable dorm and eventually a comfortable condo and earning lots of money, yeah. He was working as a social worker in his community. That’s—” He swallowed.
“Social work is tough just about everywhere. Takes a special kind of person to do that work.”
“Yep. That was Pike. He was special…and I didn’t pay enough attention.”
My senses went on high alert at his tone as much as his words.
“What happened?”
“The government decided to build a pipeline right through his territory. He didn’t take kindly to that.”
“Ah.” A picture was slowly coalescing in my mind.
“The promised jobs were enough to sway some in his tribe. Others saw only the destruction of pristine wilderness and the decimation should the pipeline rupture.”
“What was Pike’s view?”
Spencer worked his lower lip through his teeth. “Adamantly opposed. Sure, the money would’ve been great, but he didn’t see the upside. He had truly left the city behind and was steeped in the land. The wilderness had taken on an almost mystical quality to him. He wrote of it often. As much as he was tired of the poverty and substance abuse, he believed he could help lead people to a better life. He was talking about ecotourism. And the government was doing huge ad campaigns encouraging Indigenous tourism. He saw that as a better source of revenue. He—” Spencer hiccupped. “He fought big oil. He fought the government. He…lost.”
I couldn’t quite piece things together.
“They set up a barricade to prevent the pipeline. The courts ordered them to dismantle the camp. They didn’t. The cops arrived—” He shut his eyes. “I saw it on the news. The fucking news. Two days after I’d turned in my company to the authorities. Authorities I trusted. And yeah, the cops investigating the fraud where I worked obviously weren’t the same cops up north...”
“But it felt like the system all over again.” This, I could understand.
“Yeah.” He wiped at his face. “The pipeline will be finished in the spring and operational by summer. He never stood a chance.”
“He’s the reason you fight.”
“Sure.” He sighed. “I wasn’t there for him. When I left the company, I reread all his emails to me. I didn’t see the desperation in them. Beneath the upbeat updates was adesperation I could only see after the fact. When everything sort of worked itself out. When the pieces fell into place.”
“What happened to the cops?”
“They claimed self-defense. I was hoping there might be an inquiry, but nothing’s happened yet. The band got their money. Someone is trying to organize a scholarship in Pike’s name. I’ve contributed, of course.”
