Keeper'n Me by Richard Wagamese

thing I noticed was the missing power and telephone poles, and I saw someone behind one of the houses walking up from the dock with a five-gallon pail with water slopping over the sides. There were outdoor johnnies behind the houses too and I worried about how I was gonna get the slivers outta my ass. It was the only time in my life I ever thought constipation might be a blessing. Everyone looked up as the cab pulled in and by the time we pulled up in front of the store there were about fifty Indians all heading towards us. Kinda reminded me of those movies I used to watch as a kid. One minute they weren’t there and the next minute they were everywhere. It was true after all. Indians did just pop outta nowhere.
    They were all craning their necks real good trying to get a glimpse of who it was behind the tinted glass, and it gave me a chance to check out the locals and try to see any faces I recognized from the pictures Stanley’d sent. Seeing all those brown faces craning and squinty-eyedreminded me of something you see in National Geographic and I laughed while I handed the cabbie his dough. I could hear them chattering in Ojibway, laughing and rustling around. When I opened the door they all stepped back in one motion like a gumbooted chorus line.
    The silence was deafening. As soon as I flung one lime green spangly platform-shoed leg out the door there was a loud gasp all around the cab. And when I stepped out there was about fifty heads all leaning in gazing at my yellow balloon-sleeved shirt and you could hear the sounds of a few dozen sniffers catching a whiff of my fifty-dollar scent. Four or five sets of hands were scrunching up my Afro and I could hear giggles from the kids as everyone was pressing closer and closer towards me. When the cab pulled away in a flurry of gravel, they surrounded me. It was true after all. Indians did love to surround you.
    There was another loud gasp when I took off my shades and smiled all around.
    â€œS’app’nin’?” I said, bobbing my head and reaching out for hands to shake.
    â€œHo-leeee!” someone said.
    â€œWow!”
    â€œEver look like Stanley!”
    â€œEver, eh?”
    â€œHo-leeee!” said about three together.
    Just about then a tall guy with a long ponytail reached through the crowd all excited like and startedpushing people back amidst grumbling and something that sounded like cussing. When he made it up to me he stopped and looked at me with shiny eyes and kinda reaching out with his arms then pulling back, reaching out and pulling back. Finally, tears started pouring down his face. Everyone got real quiet all of a sudden and when I looked at this guy it was almost like looking into a mirror except for there being a ponytail where the Afro should have been and a definite absence of funky threads. He stared at me for what seemed like an eternity with all kindsa things working across his face, and when he spoke it was a whisper.
    â€œGarnet,” he said. “Garnet. Garnet. Garnet.”
    He reached out and touched me finally, one soft little grab of the shoulder, and then he collapsed into my arms sobbing like a kid while everyone around us moved in a little closer too.
    â€œTwenty-two years,” he said, sobbing. “Twenty-two years, my brother. Twenty-two years.”
    I was crying by this time too and all the faces around me went kinda outta focus through the tears but I could tell we weren’t the only ones breaking down and I remember thinking I wasn’t exactly being downtown cool, but right then it didn’t really matter. Holding my brother in my arms was unlike anything I’d ever felt, and as we cried I could feel that lifelong feeling of wind whistling through my guts getting quieter and quieter.
    He looked up finally, threw his arm around my shoulder and turned to the crowd.
    â€œThis is my … my … my brother,” he said, choking up and sniffling. “The one that