Read Online Bone Coulee by Larry Warwaruk - Free Book Online

on the outskirts of town:
    Home of the Lakers, Intermediate C Champions 1971/1973, the faded orange paint peeling. Another sign reads: Home of Shawn Smith, Chicago Blackhawks.
    Duncan’s not much different from a lot of other Saskatchewan towns that take this approach to measuring their success. Mac thinks it’s somewhat sad though, the condition of the signs and the way the paint is faded.
    They pull into Esther’s driveway, and already Mac can hear her dog yipping. Getting down from the truck, Esther grabs the handle above her head to steady herself, and she goes to unlock the side door to her house.
    “Shush now, Bridget,” she tells her dog. “We’ve got company.” Mac’s already out of the truck when she calls to him.
    “Come on in, Mac. I hope the soup hasn’t simmered down to nothing.” The dog barks louder and more high pitched.
    “Now you settle down, Bridget, or there’ll be no soup for you.” Bridget yips and clatters back and forth across the kitchen linoleum.
    “Just as I thought,” Esther says. “I did turn off the stove. The soup won’t take a minute to heat. And don’t be taking off your shoes, Mac. They’re clean.” She reaches over Mac’s shoulder to shut the outside door, while he bends down to tie his shoes. But she doesn’t shut the door. Instead, she walks down the three porch steps to look out the door at the big dog in the new neighbours’ backyard.
    “At least it’s tied up,” she says. “Brute of a dog they’ve got.”
    “German Shepherd. You wouldn’t want Bridget’s pups by him.”
    “And how do you want this pot of hot soup dumped on your head? With or without crackers?”
    Esther ladles some of the soup into the dog’s dish and slides it under the kitchen table. Bridget touches the hot soup with the tip of her nose, only to bark, then skitter into the living room. In a moment she’s back to the table, where she watches Esther pour half a cup of cold milk into the dish.
    “Dr. Kreutzer says that I should drink milk,” Esther says. “Much as I never did have much of a taste for it.”
    “Yeah. You’d wonder how we survive from one doctor’s appointment to the next.”
    Esther takes two bowls from the cupboard and sets them on the table, but before she fills them she takes a Kleenex and wipes imaginary dust off Cameron’s university graduation picture which sits up on the corner shelf.
    “I phoned him last night,” she says.
    “And how’s he doing?”
    “Some of his friends were over with a cake and a bottle of expensive French wine.” She dabs her eyes with the Kleenex, then gives a touch-up to the brass picture frame.
    “He never should have gone to Vancouver,” Esther says.
    “You know, Esther, it’s not just anybody has the brains to be a university professor.”
    “He’s on sick leave now. Has been for over a year.”
    “Has he said anything about coming home?”
    “Only after he’s dead. Can you believe that? He said, Only after I’m dead! His friends are there. I’m flying out to Vancouver on Monday. He wants me there to help make arrangements…. Mac, he wants to be buried in the Buffalo Hollow Cemetery.”
    “So do I.”
    “His dad is buried there. Oh God, Mac. I wish Bill were here with me.” She takes more Kleenex and buries her face in them. Mac gets to his feet, not at all sure how he should respond, and then the dog starts tugging at his pant leg.
    “Oh, for pity’s sake,” Esther says. “Now aren’t we just a pair of hostesses!” She reaches down to gather up and cradle Bridget in her arms. “Don’t mind us, Mac. Two eccentric females who’ve been alone together too long.”
    “The soup?”
    “Oh! Oh the soup! Here. Take Bridget, and I’ll fill the bowls. She wants to make friends with you.”
    “Can I set her down when I eat?”
    “Well of course. Just pet her. She’s not a baby. You don’t have to stand there holding her.”
    They sit across from each other at the kitchen table. Mac breaks soda crackers