and faster.
“Thank God for brakes,” she shouted, exhilarated, after coming to a stop.
“No brakes on a boat,” Noah said. “All you can do is throw it into reverse.”
“Some people do that to other people. Instead of braking, they go into reverse.”
She said it without thinking. There was a pause.
Then Noah exclaimed, “What are you waiting for? I’ve got work to do. Take the right-hand track up there.”
The trail circled around rough terrain, and Lori had trouble keeping the snowmobile upright. The sled started to fishtail, and the vehicle threatened to tip over as they came around a curve. Noah took over from her, and half an hour later, they arrived at a slope covered with birch and low, skinny coniferous trees.
Noah grabbed the chain saw and got right to work cutting down and chopping up some trees. Loud screeching broke the silence again and again. When he saw Lori taking pictures, he smiled and kept on working, unperturbed. Now and then, he’d give her a warning shout before a tree groaned and crashed to the ground. She watched him gathering up the heavy pieces of wood. Sweat poured from his brow.
She put her camera aside, wanting to help him load the sled, but he waved her off.
“Your clothes will get covered with resin, and your gloves.”
He gestured at the dark spots on his jacket.
“People used to seal up their cuts with resin.”
Lori looked down at herself. Her clothes were too impractical, too fashionable for Stormy Cove life.
“Is there a Salvation Army store somewhere? With used clothing?”
“Sally Ann?” Noah shook his head. “We never buy secondhand clothing.”
He threw a chunk of wood onto the sled.
“We’re not poor.”
She felt misunderstood.
“It’s no disgrace in Vancouver to buy used clothing. People are happy when they find a unique or particularly inexpensive piece of clothing.”
He gave her a look of disapproval. “You don’t look like you shop at the Sally Ann, my dear.”
“Then how do I look? High-end?”
At that moment, they heard the sound of a motor growing louder and louder. A snowmobile came roaring through the trees and stopped at their sled. The driver looked not yet forty and wore a blue-and-white tuque instead of a helmet. He leaned back on his vehicle with arms folded.
“So you’re goin’ to be famous after all, eh, Noah?” he shouted, eyeing Lori’s camera.
Noah’s brow clouded over. He turned his face away and bent down.
“You’ve come at the right time, Ches. This pile’s been waiting just for you. Like to tackle it?”
“You got some help already. Isn’t that enough?” Ches laughed and looked at Lori. There was something mischievous about him. “We haven’t met, but I’m your neighbor. Name’s Ches. I’m the house on the left.”
Lori pricked up her ears. “With three moose antlers in the gable?”
“Right. You’ll have to look in soon. Patience, my wife, would like to meet you. She’s a midwife.”
“There must be some misunderstanding,” Lori responded. “I’m not pregnant.”
Ches hesitated for a second, and Noah didn’t move.
Lori smirked. “Sorry, my sense of humor takes some getting used to.”
Ches laughed again. “Watch out! Newfies make jokes all the time. Mostly about ourselves. Didn’t Noah tell you? Or is he still a man of few words?”
Noah thumped a log onto the sled. “You do enough talking for two, Ches. You got your firewood in yet?”
“Lots of time still, my friend. I’m goin’ fishin’. Nothin’ better than a trout on a plate. Have you ever gone ice fishin’?” he asked Lori.
She shook her head.
“Drop by on your way back. We’re on the pond over there.” He pointed at the horizon. “Makes a good picture.”
He started his motor.
“Bring her over, buddy. She’s gotta learn how to fish.”
Noah raised his chain saw and pointed it at Ches.
“She’s already caught a fish, can’t you see?”
Ches laughed and got his snowmobile rolling.
Noah’s chain
“Thank God for brakes,” she shouted, exhilarated, after coming to a stop.
“No brakes on a boat,” Noah said. “All you can do is throw it into reverse.”
“Some people do that to other people. Instead of braking, they go into reverse.”
She said it without thinking. There was a pause.
Then Noah exclaimed, “What are you waiting for? I’ve got work to do. Take the right-hand track up there.”
The trail circled around rough terrain, and Lori had trouble keeping the snowmobile upright. The sled started to fishtail, and the vehicle threatened to tip over as they came around a curve. Noah took over from her, and half an hour later, they arrived at a slope covered with birch and low, skinny coniferous trees.
Noah grabbed the chain saw and got right to work cutting down and chopping up some trees. Loud screeching broke the silence again and again. When he saw Lori taking pictures, he smiled and kept on working, unperturbed. Now and then, he’d give her a warning shout before a tree groaned and crashed to the ground. She watched him gathering up the heavy pieces of wood. Sweat poured from his brow.
She put her camera aside, wanting to help him load the sled, but he waved her off.
“Your clothes will get covered with resin, and your gloves.”
He gestured at the dark spots on his jacket.
“People used to seal up their cuts with resin.”
Lori looked down at herself. Her clothes were too impractical, too fashionable for Stormy Cove life.
“Is there a Salvation Army store somewhere? With used clothing?”
“Sally Ann?” Noah shook his head. “We never buy secondhand clothing.”
He threw a chunk of wood onto the sled.
“We’re not poor.”
She felt misunderstood.
“It’s no disgrace in Vancouver to buy used clothing. People are happy when they find a unique or particularly inexpensive piece of clothing.”
He gave her a look of disapproval. “You don’t look like you shop at the Sally Ann, my dear.”
“Then how do I look? High-end?”
At that moment, they heard the sound of a motor growing louder and louder. A snowmobile came roaring through the trees and stopped at their sled. The driver looked not yet forty and wore a blue-and-white tuque instead of a helmet. He leaned back on his vehicle with arms folded.
“So you’re goin’ to be famous after all, eh, Noah?” he shouted, eyeing Lori’s camera.
Noah’s brow clouded over. He turned his face away and bent down.
“You’ve come at the right time, Ches. This pile’s been waiting just for you. Like to tackle it?”
“You got some help already. Isn’t that enough?” Ches laughed and looked at Lori. There was something mischievous about him. “We haven’t met, but I’m your neighbor. Name’s Ches. I’m the house on the left.”
Lori pricked up her ears. “With three moose antlers in the gable?”
“Right. You’ll have to look in soon. Patience, my wife, would like to meet you. She’s a midwife.”
“There must be some misunderstanding,” Lori responded. “I’m not pregnant.”
Ches hesitated for a second, and Noah didn’t move.
Lori smirked. “Sorry, my sense of humor takes some getting used to.”
Ches laughed again. “Watch out! Newfies make jokes all the time. Mostly about ourselves. Didn’t Noah tell you? Or is he still a man of few words?”
Noah thumped a log onto the sled. “You do enough talking for two, Ches. You got your firewood in yet?”
“Lots of time still, my friend. I’m goin’ fishin’. Nothin’ better than a trout on a plate. Have you ever gone ice fishin’?” he asked Lori.
She shook her head.
“Drop by on your way back. We’re on the pond over there.” He pointed at the horizon. “Makes a good picture.”
He started his motor.
“Bring her over, buddy. She’s gotta learn how to fish.”
Noah raised his chain saw and pointed it at Ches.
“She’s already caught a fish, can’t you see?”
Ches laughed and got his snowmobile rolling.
Noah’s chain
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