Wake The Stone Man by Carol McDougall Page B

knelt down and took a photo of the shards of stained glass from the chapel window. I noticed something under the glass and reached down carefully to pick up a small black shoe. The shoe of a child, maybe five years old. I held the shoe in my hand, so small and worn, and wondered where the child was now. I thought about Nakina and wondered how old she was when she was brought here?
    When I stood up I saw bright fingers of light coming through the cracks in the crumbling wall. I took that shot, light breaking through darkness. I tucked the tiny shoe in my pocket and made my way back to the other side of the fence.
    Before I left I turned to take one last shot. I stood on the spot where I had first seen Nakina, fingers curled over the top of the chain-link fence. I raised my camera and looked through the lens: crumbling walls of brick and broken glass. All the children gone. Nakina gone.
    ***
    My job at the library ended in September. On my last day Mr. Klein took me out for coffee to the greasy spoon across from the library.
    â€œYou did a great job with the photos, Molly,” he said.
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œHave you ever thought of going to library school?”
    â€œNo. Not really.”
    â€œIf you ever do, I’d be happy to give you a reference. You have a very organized mind and good attention to detail.”
    â€œI always thought I was just anal and boring.”
    â€œTwo essential qualities for a librarian.”
    â€œI’ll keep that in mind.”
    â€œI haven’t told anyone yet, but I applied for a job in Montreal,” he said.
    â€œSo you’re leaving?”
    â€œJust heard back today. They’ve offered me the job.”
    â€œCongratulations.”
    â€œMolly, you know those papers from the residential school?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œI’ve put them in the archives, in the basement behind the closed stacks. They are in a box labeled SMP.”
    â€œSMP?”
    â€œSt. Mary’s Papers.”
    â€œI’m glad you kept them,” I said.
    When we got back to the library Mr. Klein gave me a gift, a mug with the library crest on it.
    â€œThanks,” I said. “It will remind me of our afternoon tea breaks together. I really enjoyed them.” I put on my coat. “Good luck in Montreal.”
    â€œThank you.”
    As I left the library I was surprised how sad I felt to be saying goodbye.
    ***
    That night Anna took me downtown for drinks to celebrate. “So, what are you going to do, Molly?” she asked.
    â€œOrder a rye and ginger.”
    â€œHa funny. And after that?”
    â€œWhat?” I was trying to stuff Anna’s canes under the chair across from us.
    â€œSeriously. What’s your plan?” she asked.
    â€œNo plan.”
    â€œI thought you were going to art school,” she said.
    â€œStupid idea.”
    â€œNo it’s not. You’ve got talent.”
    â€œI’m crap.”
    â€œYou give up too fast.”
    â€œShut up.”
    â€œWhy don’t you apply at Lakehead? You could get in for the winter term.”
    â€œDon’t want to go to Lunkhead.”
    â€œConfederation College?
    â€œWhat for?”
    â€œI don’t know. To get a job.”
    The band was playing “Stairway to Heaven” and a young guy came towards me looking like he was going to ask me to dance. I gave him my “fuck off” look and he backed right off. Nice to have power.
    Anna changed the subject. “Hey, do you ever see Nakina?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œToo bad,” she said.
    â€œNo loss. Hey, lets get out of this place. It’s dead in here.”
    We went back to the Wayland Hotel after and had a blast with all the ole guys buying us drinks. The band from the Legion was playing a Johnny Cash tune and Anna and I went up on stage, grabbed the mike and started singing. Don’t know if we were any good or if everyone was just so completely shit-faced that it sounded good, but