Dark Chronicles of Nooria 3

Afternoon recess, I discover Jenny is unshakable. As I return from recess, Mary grins, "why not give it a try? Test drive, like a car."
"Give what a try?" I ask innocently, but my blush gives me away.
"Hey no risk of pregnant, less risk of disease. They say it goes on forever, not like a guy, run out of energy."
"What exactly do they do?"
She whispers in my ear.
I gasp, "surely you aren't serious?"
"Nora my friend, look around. Swine swine and more swine. Surely you won't grow up, marry or live with one of those creepy guys?"
"No."
"So what you wannabe?"
"Army, technician, say electronics."
"Then get used to it, lotta girls hitting on you."
I blush hotly.
"Take her out Saturday, be very demanding."
"I'll pass."
"You think Jerry was a pest. Ain't seen nothing yet. She just won't give up."
I'm saved from further conversation by the re-arrival of the teacher.

On my way home, I stop at Melissa's. Mrs Morningchild is happy to see me, makes tea. Melissa was looking woebegone, but cheered up when I came.
I've just finished supper dishes when a half-ton pulls up in front. Out hops Jenny and her big brother, whose name I don't know yet. He does repair and renovation under the table.
Mum picks that moment to come to life, answers the door. "Tommy, come in."
"Uh, it's Tom now."
"Well come on in. Don't just stand around Nora, put on tea."
It's a long conversation, Mum giving a sanitized version of our Saskatoon doings and Tom giving stories of the years she was away.
As usual, he leaves the main point to near the end. "Now you see, the Council shouldn't have given you this crappy old shack. So I said why not be helpful? Jenny says Nora is a school-friend. So name one job that needs doing."
"We're ah short of funds, welfare only."
"No problem, name one thing."
Mum sighs, "back door, very sticky, hard to close or open."
In minutes Tom's power-sander has done the job. He grins, "now remember, I don't have tons of overhead, don't bother with GST (Goods and Services Tax) and such. So rates are as good as you'll find."
Now does this coming alive for the visitors last? No, mum sinks back into the sofa, turns on the TV and it's nary a word to me.
I brood. So not only has Jenny one-upped me, getting me owing her one; but mum has shown her true colors. Energy for others and none for me. Why? Then it hits me, that East Indian shade of black hair, very different from native Indian. The East Indian shape of nose. I remind her of Suresh too much.

Saturdays, Melissa and I used to walk to the end of the lake. It's a good jaunt, 4 miles each way. I usually take a walking stick, rough terrain.
I set out alone, shoulder bag with lunch and thermos of tea. Despite being alone, it's a wonderful day. As I sit, sip tea, stare out into the wild distance, I realize I really am not cut out for either city or reserve life. My destiny appears to be live alone in a remote area.
On my way back, I stop, visit with Melissa. When you have only one friend, you view that friend as very important.
Mrs Morningchild lays her hand on my shoulder, "Nora she's still too sick to go out tomorrow. So, just you and me for church?"
Usually it's the three of us.
"Yes ma'am."
Now the church group doesn't own a building. The school gives them permission to use space. Responsible people from the church group make sure it's clean and locked after.
As I walk hand-in-hand with Mrs Morningchild, she asks gently, "so Nora, things not too good with your mum?"
I blush, nod.
"I always said to myself, be real proud if I had another daughter, one like you. So if anything happens to your mum, you could always live with us."
"Couldn't do that, you already have money problems ma'am."
She laughs, "no problem at all, your welfare amount would just come to us. We wouldn't be starving to feed you."
"Thank you for the kind offer ma'am."
"Then you'd be sharing with Melissa."
Now that sounds cool.
"Ma'am, would something happen to her?"
"She's supposed to take that medicine, never does. Miss too much, get real depressed, anything could happen. So, she was like this for the last year you two were in Saskatoon? Or just this way when she arrived in Lilac Valley?"
"Ma'am, pretty much the same last year, see soon as the thing happened to my dad, we had to move. Cheaper place, something the welfare would cover."
"I should go give her a kick in the butt Nora. Growing child needs to talk. Anyway, you know you can always talk with me?"
I nod.
After church, I spend the afternoon visiting with Melissa and Mrs Morningchild. Like everyone else in Lilac Valley, I got tons of free time. What is Mrs Morningchild's favorite topic? How bad all men are, hers even more so. Good thing he's not there to hear. So where is he? Rumor has it, he and a few friends got their own private still back in the woods. She sees him a bit welfare day, rarely sees him otherwise.
I ask her the question, "ma'am, is there anyone here who lives normal?"
She just grins, "Mrs Merasty the teacher, she gets on peaceable with her husband. Now Mrs Awasis, your teacher, she just bashes hers on the head with a frying pan. Is why he hangs out in the woods with his buddies alla time. The Merasty's they's the only normal ones. I don't just mean teachers, mean everyone."
"Two thousand people and one normal marriage?" I gasp, "so odds ain't good?"
"When you grow up, just stay away from them Nora, more trouble than they is worth, I mean all men, white too, not just native. You know, your mum would be better off if you'd stayed in Saskatoon."
"Not our choice ma'am, landlords done raised the rent higher than the welfare covered."
She insists I stay for supper, bacon, cream corn and potato chips.

I arrive home, just haul water, have a towel bath and it's bed. I wonder what will happen if the TV breaks down?
Monday morning, before class starts, I seek out Melissa's teacher. Ask if she'll give me a list of what stuff Melissa should try to look at, promise to help her on it.
Teacher smiles, guess she is not used to that sort of request. "You come back just before lunch Nora, I'll have it ready then."
Recess I see Jenny has changed strategy. When you are overweight, jeans only make you look worse. Today she has on top and skirt, looks a lot better. I walk around the yard and she follows. No hard sell, just friendly conversation, history and such around Lilac Valley.

Melissa's teacher takes about 5 minutes explaining, gives me the package of books and list. This makes me last kid through the foodline. Thank heavens there's enough.
No table vacant, pretty much have to sit with Jenny to be polite.
As I listen to her, I see her strategy, put me totally at ease, then make a play.
By afternoon recess I realize she has a secret weapon, humor. See haven't had a lotta that lately. Friendship with Melissa, based on being neighbors, good feeling toward each other and mutual need, still lacks any humor.

After school, I spend maybe an hour at Melissa's, going over stuff with her. Mrs Morningchild thanks me a lot.
By Tuesday morning recess, I see I've sorta shifted in my thinking. I'd never make a move, too shameful. But if she did, asked the right way, I'd ah well ah experiment. But limits, hand only, none of that other stuff Mary told me of.
She musta read me. Offers to walk me home. There's a lonely stretch where no houses can see the road. She looks behind, sees no kids there, takes my hand, leads me out behind the trees.
Curiously, that's where she stops, hand only.
As we resume our walk, she grins, "our age, that's all we should do. Not the other stuff."
I nod.
"So what we gonna do when your friend Melissa is back?"
"Just sorta say we're friends, maybe 3 of us eat lunch together."
Wicked grin, "don't play innocent. Not what I meant. How we gonna ditch her time to time?"
In a flash I know, "forget morning til after school. But after supper, I'm out, burning garbage, doing laundry at the lake."
She squeezes my hand, "cool, we'll see our schedules match up."
If mum were paying even one ounce of attention to me, she would know I was up to something. Flushed, bigtime. Way too sweaty for the temperature.

I get this wierd dream after unusual stuff. Always the same, every detail.
I'm way above the oxygen line, supposedly 15,000 feet. Only way I can breathe without too much pain, scarf. It's cold like a Saskatoon winter day. In these mountains, I'm cutting up dead bodies to eat. There's a war somewhere, but it never finds me. I'm all alone, that's all I got to eat. Finally, I'm so deathly tired of it all, I just lie down in a snowbank, decide to die.
It's then I have a shock. See I may as well look good, so I take out a small mirror, check my hair is neat, no dirt on my face.
Now I've had this same dream probably a dozen times in the last year. But this time, it ends different. See the East Indian black hair is gone, in it's place reddish-brown. Face isn't mine this time, rounder.
I wonder what it all means.