The Incomparable Atuk by Mordecai Richler Page B

is that to the Eskimo, to the militants anyway, you’re all greenhorns. They’d relocate you all in one province. A sort of national park.’
    ‘But that would be inhuman. Many families have been settled in this country for generations.’
    ‘It’s crazy. Like I said. But the land
is
ours by right, you know.’
    ‘Why talk politics,’ Goldie said. ‘Like—’
    ‘It belonged to our ancestors and—’
    ‘But that was thousands of years ago.’
    ‘Maybe so. But our people have suffered terrible persecutions out on the Bay and—’
    ‘Not from me. I never did harm to an Eskimo—’
    ‘Sure you haven’t. It’s only the fur hunters and the RCMP. And don’t say it, I know. They’re good fathers and husbands and the good people of Torontohave no idea what’s going on up there. But the fact remains the land is ours and we’d like it back. Some people would, anyway.’
    ‘How amusing. You come back after thousands of years and would like me and my family to move out. Your people sound very aggressive to me.’
    ‘With reason, but. Conditions—’
    ‘One persecution does not excuse another. Just because your people have suffered—’
    ‘It’s more than that. The land was promised to us by our gods.’
    ‘Pardon me while I laugh.’
    ‘We have a book. It’s all written out there.’
    ‘Look, everybody has a book. This is our country. You can’t drive us out like – like Arabs. We’re Canadians.’
    ‘To us, you’re all Arabs.’
    Rory leaped up, knocking over his drink. ‘Are you trying to bait me?’ he asked.
    ‘Of course not. Sit down, man.’
    ‘Atuk, I’m pleased to have you as a business associate. But you’re not … well, fit to marry into a Jewish family.’
    ‘You don’t understand. Jewish, Protestant, you’re all white to me.’
    Rory gaped. Tears came to his eyes. White. He, Rory Peel, was being called white. This was the compliment, the state of grace, he had striven for all his life. But today, coming from Atuk’s mouth, it was delivered as an insult.
    ‘In my opinion, Atuk, you’re just a loud, aggressive Eskimo.’
    And Rory walked right out of the bar.
    ‘Well, congrats. You said you could handle him and you did. The man from Charmsville.’
    ‘Sorry, baby. But I’ve been getting it from all sides today.’
    ‘I’ll be getting it too. Once Rory gets on the phone to Paw.’
    ‘To hell with it. I will not apologize for what I am. He could have called me anything but an “aggressive Eskimo”.’ Atuk blew his nose. ‘When I used to ski to school as a kid the white boys used to knock me over and beat me up and call me a dirty Eskimo.’
    ‘Oh, my poor darling.’
    ‘I have feelings too, you know. If you prick me, do I not bleed?’
    ‘Ha, ha, ha,’ Goldie said. ‘Me too, man.’
    ‘I’m a success. A somebody. What do I have to do to prove myself to all the Rorys of this world?’
    ‘I don’t care. We’ll marry without him.’
    ‘Don’t worry. He’ll come round. We’re still partners, you know. What time is it?’
    ‘Five o’clock.’
    ‘Damn it, we’re due at Gore’s at six. I’d better go home to change.’ Suddenly Atuk laughed. ‘Have you ever met his wife?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘She kills me. Nancy goes in for the nose-rubbing bit. Oh, what a night we’ve got ahead of us.’

13
    Once he had changed into his native costume Atuk went down to the basement to dip into the rejects bin for a piece of sculpture he could take to the Gores. He dreaded the polite, goysy evening ahead of him. But there had been a time when he would have been immensely pleased to be invited to the Gores. Atuk, after all, had once been the political hope of his tribe, and Gore had been his mentor in those early days in Toronto.
    Ah, when I look back, Atuk thought, lifting his slippered feet on to a hassock and swishing his cigar around in his snifter of Remy Martin. There’s nothing to stop me now, is there? No.
    Maybe tonight it won’t be so bad at Gore’s