me.”
“I’ve never even been to Scotland,” I said. “Jackie was born there. It must be his moon.”
“You share the same blood,” she said. “Why do you think you go there every night?”
“Because I don’t have a television.”
She laughed. Or came as close to laughing as she was going to that night. “Every moon has a message, you know. You know what the wolf moon means?”
“No,” I said. “What does it mean?”
“The wolf moon means it’s time to protect the people around you because there are wolves outside your door.”
“I see.”
“I’m not saying you need to protect me,” she said. “That’s not what I’m saying. I can take care of myself.”
“Okay,” I said.
“That’s the moon talking,” she said. “Not me.”
“Okay.”
The snow was beginning to accumulate. She stared out at the road for a while and then she said, “Although if you wanted to just keep driving all night long, I wouldn’t object. See how far away we can get.”
“Dorothy…”
“Keep driving,” she said. There was a sudden, ragged edge in her voice. “Just keep going. Get me the hell out of here.”
“This road goes straight up the point about twelve miles,” I said. “And then it’s a dead end.”
“Story of my life,” she said. The edge in her voice was gone, just as suddenly as it had appeared. “Hey, you know they got wolves out on Isle Royale now?”
“So I heard.”
“Speaking of wolves, I mean. You know how they got there?”
Isle Royale was an island in the middle of Lake Superior. The whole island had been protected as a national park. “They crossed the ice,” I said. “How else they gonna get out there? Take the ferry?”
“Yeah, you’re funny,” she said. “What I mean is, do you know why they got there? Why they went all the way across the ice to get to the island?”
“They’re hunters,” I said. “There’s only one reason they’d go there.”
“Yeah, the moose,” she said. “The moose crossed the ice first. And then the wolves came looking for them.”
“Naturally.”
“So imagine you’re one of those moose. You think you’ve finally found a safe place, with no wolves around. And then one day…”
I kept driving.
“The wolves will always find you, Alex. Remember that.”
“I’ll remember,” I said.
“God, I can’t believe I’m back here.” She slid into a fake yooper accent. “I’m in da Yoo Pee, ay?”
I didn’t say anything.
“I hate this place so much, Alex. I can’t even tell you how much.”
“This is it,” I said. I took the left through the trees. The snow had all but hidden my access road again, I was sure I’d have to plow it again the next morning.
“You live here all year?”
“Sure, why not?” We passed Vinnie’s place first. “That’s where Vinnie LeBlanc lives,” I said. “The guy who recognized you.” There was no car in his driveway. It looked like there hadn’t been a car there all day. “I haven’t even seen him around since last night. Since the hockey game, I mean. I wonder where he is. He should meet you.”
“Why’s that?” she said. “So we can exchange the secret Indian handshake?”
“He’d want to meet you,” I said. “That’s all. I can’t imagine where he is.”
“Probably drunk somewhere,” she said.
“Vinnie doesn’t drink,” I said. It came out sharper than I expected. “I mean, you can’t say something like that if you don’t know the man. Even if you are an Indian yourself.”
“You’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“Here’s my cabin,” I said as we passed it. “The empty one is just up the road here.”
I parked next to the cabin. When I turned the headlights off, the night reclaimed us. We sat there in the total darkness.
“I’ll turn these lights back on until we get inside,” I said.
“No,” she said. “Leave them off. I forgot how dark it gets up here. It’s one of the only things I like about this place.”
“Too bad that full moon isn’t out tonight,” I said.
“That’s one of my first memories,” she said. “Looking out a window and seeing the snow glowing in the moonlight.” She didn’t say anything for a long moment. The silence was as complete as the darkness. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “You don’t want to hear all this. I start talking about the strangest things when I’m tired.”
“I don’t mind,” I said. “But you’re gonna get cold soon.”
We made our way through the snow to the front door. She shifted the bag on her shoulder.
“I wish you’d let me carry that,” I said. It was all I could do to keep myself from wrestling it away from her.
“No thanks, Sir Galahad.”
I unlocked the door and let her into the place, flipping on the lights. It was the second cabin my father had built. He thought the first one looked a little too rough and dark on the inside, so he used unstained white pine for the interior walls. It made the place look a lot bigger than it was.
“Wow,” she said. “This is nice.” There were two sets of bunk beds on opposite walls. She put her bag down on one of the lower bunks and climbed halfway up the ladder into the loft. “This place sleeps, what, about eight people?”
“Six is comfortable,” I said. “Eight if everybody likes each other.” I started the woodstove. I had already had paper and logs in there, figuring I’d have paying guests from downstate that night. “I’ll get this fire going. There’s electricity for the lights and the water, but this is the only heat. There’s no phone. You can use mine in the morning if you want.”
“No problem.” She poked her head into the bathroom. “You’ve really got hot water in here?”
“Eventually,” I said. “It’ll take a few minutes to get going. I have to go turn the water on.”
I went back outside and around to the back of the cabin. There was a little door that opened up to the crawlspace. All I had to do was shimmy my way under the cabin, wondering what sort of creatures were down there this time. I’ve seen plenty of mice under the cabins, along with a few bats, a raccoon, a possum. It’s not my favorite thing to do, but if I don’t keep the water turned off when the cabin’s empty, it freezes in the pipes.
When I turned the water on, I backed my way out the door, brushed myself off, and went back inside. I tried not to drip snow all over the place, because the puddles dry on the white pine floor and it looks like hell. It was the only mistake my father ever made when he built these cabins.
She was leaning against the sink, her coat unzipped. She didn’t look ready to get completely comfortable yet. I couldn’t blame her. No matter how much she said she trusted me, it must have felt a little strange to be here.
“You got all dirty,” she said. She was holding something in her hand. It was round and black. It looked like…
“Is that a hockey puck?” I said.
“Yeah, here,” she said. She tossed it to me.
I caught it and looked at it. There was a white circle on one side, and on it a red wheel with a wing coming off it. It was the Detroit Red Wings logo. Beneath the logo there was an autograph. Gordie Howe.
“Is this real?” I said.
“Yes,” she said. “Ever see him play?”
