Read Online The Cast Stone by Harold Johnson - Free Book Online Page B

imagine.”
    The memory stirred a strong emotion. Roland paused; he seemed to be struggling with it. His face contorted slightly; he opened his mouth but no words came . . .
    â€œOkay everyone, lunch.” Abe stepped from where he leaned against the soft-coloured wood rafters into the patch of light and stood beside Roland. “Thank you, Roland.” He shook his hand gently.
    Ben sat quietly during the break, enjoyed the fresh tomato in the sandwich of homemade bread. That tomato must have been picked not more than yesterday; it tasted of earth and water and vine.
    â€œYou have a nice place here.” Monica washed down her sandwich with a bottle of cranberry juice.
    â€œYou’re not the only one who thinks so,” Abe responded. “Had a fellow in here this morning determined he was going to buy it even if it wasn’t for sale. Had to threaten him before he would leave.”
    â€œSo, how much was he offering?”
    â€œStarted at two, by the time I was pushing him into his car he was up to four.”
    â€œFour, four what, four million?” Monica’s cranberry juice held suspended half way between the table and her mouth.
    â€œYup, four million for a quarter section, an old barn, house and Quonset. I only paid a hundred and a quarter for it thirty years ago.”
    â€œSo what’s the big jump in real estate. I thought the market was collapsed.”
    â€œIn the big cities houses are almost worthless, but that’s because everyone who can afford to is trying to move out into the country.”
    â€œFrisco.” Monica got it. That was the answer.
    â€œFrisco.” Abe agreed. “So the people in Vancouver, Toronto, Montreal, move out to Saskatoon, Regina, even Prince Albert. People in the small cities move out into the country.”
    â€œBut, four million Ameros. You could live a long time on that.” The cranberry juice made it to her lips.
    â€œNot as good as I live here. What’s four million? Doesn’t mean anything. If the price of land doubled again and it was eight million, I’d just end up using it to buy another place. If I sold out to that guy this morning, I’d just spend it all this afternoon pushing someone else out of their home. Naw, it wasn’t much of a deal.”
    â€œOr you could buy yourself a condominium in Toronto.”
    â€œYeah. Right.” Abe bit into his sandwich.

    â€œ Waweyatsin .” Ben pushed the word out, imitated his grandmother’s voice, clear, concise, tinted with a little smile. “Good for you, you deserved that, now learn from it,” she had said.
    â€œ Waweyatsin ,” he repeated because the word meant everything he wanted to say to these people seated, fed, legs outstretched, still holding bottles of water, relaxed after their meal. “Now you know what it feels like.” The sun through the open doors warmed his back, grandfather was behind him, he could speak from here. “Canada’s assertion of superiority over Aboriginal Peoples lasted for centuries. The Americans have only been here for a few years. Get used to it. They are not going home. No matter how much you cry, no matter if you say it’s not fair, they lied to us; they are not going away. Make all the rational arguments you want — this is our land, our home, you have no right to come and take it away from us, you are a bastard nation, supremacy knows no logic. The supremacists are here because they thoroughly believe that it is for your own good. And, maybe it is. Maybe Canada has to learn what it feels like, what it feels like to be dominated, to be moved off the land, to be re-educated. We tried to tell you for decades, but you wouldn’t listen. Way back at the Treaty signing, some of our ancestors tried to explain to you that you had no right to take, that you had to ask. But you wouldn’t listen, so Waweyatsin . Good for you. This is what happens to you when you act like