River 43 -- Shelley's future

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River

By Dawn Natelle

Chapter 43 – Shelley’s future

I left this story for a long time, but as promised an epilog came to me. I hope some of you are still interested in the happenings at the River: Dawn.

Wayne stood outside the door of Professor Hillier, his second year Organizational Development course professor. Finally the professor opened the door and let him into his small office.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Stormcloud?” he asked.

“I was wondering about my term paper,” the young First Nation man asked. “I can't understand the marks.” He showed the paper, which had 0, 60, 70, 85 and 100 written across the top, with no real indication of which was the real mark.

“Ah yes,” the professor said, picking up the paper. “I spent almost as much time marking that paper as I did for the rest of the class. The zero was my initial response. I was quite certain that the paper was plagiarized or otherwise invalid. I marked it zero and put it aside for reassessment. The work presented looked like something from an MBA class, not an undergraduate paper.”

“The mark of 60 came when I could not prove it was copied, but was still suspicious. I read the paper again, and decided to move it to a 75. That was when I explored your references, which were presented in perfect APA style, by the way. I found one of the references referred to a CBC film clip where an Indian reserve taking over a pulp mill actually had you in it, standing at the rear with a pretty blonde as a lawyer explained the rationale for the takeover. This proved that you hadn’t copied the paper. The mark was raised to 85. It was a very good paper.”

“Finally I presented the paper to one of the full professors in the MBA program. He said it would be an A or A plus in his program. That was when I decided I had to award you a 100: if the paper would be an A plus for an MBA student. Congratulations. That is the first perfect term paper I have ever marked.”

“Thank you sir,” Wayne said, wondering why the man hadn’t stroked through the old marks when adding the newer ones.

“Are you planning on going up to the Indian band mill again next summer,” the professor asked.

“Yes I am, and if you wouldn’t mind, we prefer the term First Nations, not Indian.”

“Pshaw. I’m not a follower of all that politically correct stuff.”

“Would you refer to a Chinese student as a Chink? An Italian as a wop or dago? A black as a nigger?” Wayne asked.

The last one especially caught the professor’s attention. That term could kill his chances of earning tenure. “You said that, not me.”

“Well, the term Indian is just as offensive to me and my people,” Wayne explained. “Our culture has a long oral history tradition, and we have never been to India. We remember being the first peoples in this land, and therefore prefer the term First Nations.”

“I apologize, and will try to correct my terminology in the future,” the man said. “You must remember that I came of age in the ‘60s, and was brought up on Lone Ranger and Roy Roger video reruns. I played Cowboys and Indians with my peers. I meant no offense.”

“Thank you.”

“The reason I asked if you were going to be heading north in the spring was to ask if you might take another student with you. You seemed to pick up a lot of knowledge working there for several months. It could help another student.”

“I will have to ask the plant manager, Ken Turnbell,” Wayne said, “but I think he would approve of a second intern. Do you have someone in mind, or can I choose?”

“I don’t have anyone in mind. Do you?”

“Yes,” Wayne said. “I would like to take Billy Tootoo up.”

The professor nearly did a spit take with his coffee. “The jock? He is just in this class to get a non-sports credit so that he can keep playing football. I’ve agreed to pass him with a flat 50 percent, but I can’t recommend him for your internship. He still has to hand in his term paper, but I’m not looking for much there.”

“If he finishes the course with a 75% or better will you then agree that he can come?” Wayne asked.

“Sure. That isn’t going to happen,” the professor snorted.

Wayne left and called Ken, who agreed that he could take on two summer interns. Then Wayne went to find Billy, who was the only other First Nation student in Professor Hillier’s course. But while Wayne was tall and slim, Billy was anything but slim, weighing over 300 pounds on a 6’3” frame. He played offensive lineman on the Western football team, and was clearly not academically talented. He never spoke in the Organizational Development class, and often seemed to not pay attention to the lectures.

Once when Wayne had been late to class, he had to take a seat near the back to avoid disruption, and he sat next to Billy. He found that the man was not taking notes, but sketching out football plays through the entire class.

Since the course would not meet again until after the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday (a mid-October Monday in Canada) Wayne sought out the boy at the football field, where a practice was just wrapping up.

“Billy? Can I talk to you?”

“For a minute,” the big lineman said “Not too long though, or I get stuck with a cold shower.”

“I’m in Org. Development with you, and I have a proposition. Would you like to spend the summer at a First Nation’s reserve in northern Ontario this summer? I’m heading up there over Thanksgiving and could take you along if you’d like to look around.”

“Hmmm,” Billy said. “Thanksgiving weekend is our bye week, so there is no game. I could skip the Friday practice. The line coach has already said he wants all the players to eat hearty on Thanksgiving. He promised that he would work it off on Tuesday practice for our big game with Ottawa.”

Wayne pulled out his iPad, and showed Billy the videos of the river, including one with the Rube machine.

“Hey, I’m in for that,” Billy said. “That looks awesome.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at noon Friday. I have a class that ends at 11:30. I’ll have to rent us a car.”

“No need,” Billy said. “There is a car dealer in town that will spot us a loaner in return for me and a couple other guys doing a promo for him.”

On Friday afternoon the two men were heading on the 12-hour drive north, taking turns behind the wheel. They had left at 2 p.m. and with stops along the way for gas and dinner, they arrived at the park at 3 a.m. Wayne drove out and parked at the meeting place.

“Look, there is a girl out in the river,” Billy said. “She’s cute.”

“She’s mine, so hands off,” Wayne said as River came to the bank. Wayne stepped into the water and had a long hug with the rivertalker. Then River reached out for Billy’s hand. The big man thought he was going to get a hug as well, but instead River just pulled him along to the center of the river starting to sing in Ojibwe as she did. Wayne hunkered down on his haunches on the bank and listened to the beautiful song of the people. He knew that Billy was learning the Ojibwe language.

Then Wayne realized he could no longer understand River’s song. He could pick up a word or two, but most of it was foreign to him. It was three full hours later that she led Billy out of the water.

The man had changed. Wayne guessed that he was two inches taller. But more important, his pot-belly was completely gone. The forty or so pounds there had not left him, but instead had turned into muscles in his arms, shoulders, and legs. And while they didn’t know it at the time, he had another 30 pounds added in the same areas, so he would top the scales back at camp at 334 instead of 301.

“That was incredible,” Billy said as he climbed up the bank, finding his clothes still dry. “She taught me about my Cree culture, and the language. And I learned the Ojibwe language as well.”

“I know,” Wayne laughed. “You are speaking it right now.”

“I am?” Billy laughed. “Anyway, the river taught me more about Org. Development than I thought I ever would know. I have a paper to write before we go back. The subject seems so interesting now. In class it was just blah-blah-blah but now it seems so important. I need to learn stuff like this if I can’t make a living playing ball.”

River went back into the river, and Wayne convinced Billy that he would not forget everything from the river if he didn’t write his paper out immediately. They drove to the new Summerstorm home where the big RV was still parked waiting for the next trip out to the reserves. Wayne heard a baby crying in the house, so he went to the door and tapped.

It was Marilyn who answered, and immediately flung herself on her older brother. “Wayne! I didn’t know you were coming for Thanksgiving. Welcome. And invite your big friend in too.”

“Where is my niece,” Wayne demanded. Nick came out of the bathroom and handed the newly diapered girl to Wayne. He cuddled her for a while, and then asked Billy to put out a hand. He then laid the small bundle into that massive palm, which Billy cupped as his eyes went wide at the responsibility of holding such a small being. Luv did her trick though, grabbing onto the huge thumb and bringing it to her mouth and attempting to suck on it, although she couldn’t get her mouth around it.

“That is a sign that she is hungry,” Marilyn said, taking the baby from its huge resting place and putting her to her breast.

“That is so beautiful,” Billy said in a reverent whisper as Luv nursed. “She is so beautiful, so small, so perfect.”

“Oh, until you said small I was hoping you meant me,” Marilyn teased.

“You are beautiful and perfect,” Nick told his wife.

“Good answer,” Marilyn said. “But I see that small still doesn’t apply.” She laughed.

“You don’t need to be small when you are beautiful and perfect,” Nick said.

“Better answer.”

They chatted for a half hour and then Marilyn left her daughter with the boys, and started to make a breakfast. She thought she made enough, but Billy ate more than half of the meal. She had hoped to have some of the sausages left for lunch, as well as some bacon, but the three men cleaned it all up, with Billy eating more than the other two as well. Marilyn herself barely got anything. Luckily she was married to one of the richest men on the reserve. Feeding Billy could be a chore.

Wayne explained that they would be heading out that evening, and Billy had only come up to visit the river. Then they went next door to the Waters’ new house, where the family there was just sitting down to breakfast. Billy joined in ‘for a few things’ and wound up eating nearly as much as Mark.

The women stayed at Alison’s home, and prepared a pre-Thanksgiving evening meal. Many of their friends from the reserve and the other houses in the new subdivision had been invited over for an early Thanksgiving, while the traditional Ojibwe feast would be held on Monday, the holiday.

Nick drove into town and got the largest ham left in the local store, and brought it back to be added to the menu, along with another sack of potatoes. He hoped that would make enough food for the huge football player. When he got back, he saw that his other sister, Shelley was sitting on the couch next to Billy, and neither one seemed capable of seeing anything else but the other.

In the kitchen Nick nodded to his wife, who smiled with a glance at her sister. “Let her be,” Marilyn said. “She doesn’t get to meet too many good men up her. Wayne insists that he is a good man.”

Wayne was helping the women prep for the meal, allowing Shelley to visit. Nick handed him the sack of potatoes. “Here are some more potatoes to peel, since you brought the incredible eating machine to the party.” He turned back to his wife. “I also got a pretty big ham. Will there be time in the oven for it? Or should I take it home and cook it there?”

“Our house,” Marilyn said. “We only have a half hour gap here, and that looks like it will need 2 hours at 350. Do you want me to do it?”

“No, you are needed here, and I’m sort of at loose ends. I’ll take Luv over with me and we can cuddle a bit until Grandma and the Grandpas get here.”

“I’ll send them right over,” Marilyn said. “I know they will be more interested in Luv than anything here. Mark, why don’t you head over with Nick?” She handed the ham to the big boy.

It was near noon when the Stormclouds and Neil Audette arrived. Helen got first cuddles with the baby, and then Ben had to wait as his wife handed the baby to Neil next, since she said he had several minutes seniority as Grandpa. Finally the miner handed the baby to Ben.

“It smells wonderful in here,” Helen said. “Nearly as good as over at the other house.”

“I just changed Luv a few minutes before you all got here,” Nick said. “Mark wasn’t interested, for some reason. Anyway, I can’t smell much of anything good right now, but I suspect that the ham in the oven is what you mean.”

Helen checked the meat, pronouncing it a half hour from done, and then headed over to the other house, getting one more nice cuddle from Luv before heading to the other house where there was more work for her to join in on.

The men took turns with the baby, with Neil getting the most chances to join in. He just stared at the little girl, occasionally muttering ‘So like Ginny’ and getting a tear in his eye.

The ham was taken out 15 minutes later, and left to cool for another 15 before the men all headed out to the other house, with Mark carrying the meat, and Neil the baby.

Back at the house Billy looked away from Shelley for just a few seconds when he smelled the meat entering the house.

“Goodness me,” Shelley said, her trance broken. “I haven’t been helping a bit.” She started to stand up.

“Just stay where you are,” Wayne told his sister from the kitchen. “You are entertaining our guest, and I’m pretty sure he prefers chatting with you than with me. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

Both Billy and Shelley turned red, but she sat back down, and resumed their quiet conversation, with Billy telling her about the university and playing football, and her telling him about the north.

There was a quick lunch to hold everyone over until dinner, and then Shelley asked: “Wayne, can Billy and I go into town? He really wants to see the Rube.”

“Sure, go ahead. But be back by 4 so we can start on the meal. That’s when everyone is coming. I don’t want you late for a meal.”

“I’ve never been late for a meal,” Billy said, “and I’m not going to start now. Everything in there smells wonderful.”

Guests started to arrive at 4, and River mingled with a tray of cheese and crackers as an appetizer. She saw Billy and Shelley return, walking hand-in-hand and clearly in love. She wondered if the river had something to do with it, or if it was just human nature.

The meal went well, with Billy pulling his considerable weight in demolishing the turkey and ham. Mark tried to keep pace, but soon fell far behind. After all, the football lineman was nearly twice his weight.

That night Billy begged Wayne to let them stay, and the other student didn’t mind. He said they would leave right after River finished her morning ceremony. That night Billy and Wayne stayed with the Summerstorms, while Shelley had to go home to the Stormcloud house. Helen drove her over in the morning so she could have breakfast with Billy.

Wayne drove them, and part of the family to the river, with Shelley and Billy nestled in the back seat and Neil in the front. He had also stayed over in the big house, getting quality Grandpa time in. He even changed Luv’s diaper in the morning, which was more than the other Grandpa ever did. Of course he had a Grandma and several aunts that were always willing to take on the dirty work.

River had been in the river all morning, and discovered that the budding love affair was none of its doing, but Manitou approved of the match. Billy would go south to school, returning in the summer, and she would continue her mission work to the other reserves. A pleasant thanksgiving service was presented, with Billy looking on in admiration as Shelley joined the singers in the river.

On the ride back to London after the service, Wayne drove most of the way, with Billy in the passenger seat typing on his laptop. The river had given him more than enough information for his paper, which he needed to hand in on Tuesday. The professor accepted late work from the football players, but Tuesday was the limit. They got home early Monday morning, and he spent a few hours to get references from his textbook, the Internet, and the library. In all he had spent three times as much on this paper as any others he had done. And he was proud of the paper. Anything else he had done in the past was just garbage that his professor would have to mark at 50% to keep him eligible for the team. This time he had really worked.

It showed. The professor called him in for a meeting, and quizzed Billy on several points that were made in the paper, and was astounded at the formerly marginal student’s understanding. He finally scratched out the 80% mark on the paper, and handed it back with an 85, the highest mark Billy had received on any paper since grade two.

And the boy also took more interest in his other subjects. There was an eight-hour road trip to Ottawa by bus that Friday, and Billy passed on playing cards or video games in the back with the other linemen, instead reading and studying for most of the ride up front.

The Ottawa game was available in the St. Mary’s hotel on their big screen TV that Saturday. In Canada college football games don’t get the attention the American games do, with crowds of only 3,000 to 10,000 at the games. But they are telecast, in a way, by volunteers of the local cable providers. Shelley had begged Colin RedHawk to get access to the game somehow, and he hacked into the satellite that the cable station in Ottawa used to send the game back to the London cable station. Thus Shelley and many others who had met Billy watched the game from the hotel dish.

Western generally has a good team, but this year they were rebuilding, and had lost two of their first three games, only beating perennial cellar-dwelling Toronto. Ottawa had an undefeated team that was ranked number 4 in the nation, and they hoped to move up with a big win over Western.

In the game Billy started out in defense, and he sacked the quarterback on the first two downs (there are only three downs in Canadian football). Ottawa punted poorly on third down, barely recovering the yardage lost in the sacks. Western was unable to get a first down, but got a better punt, gaining a bit of possession. The next series for Ottawa was a disaster. They decided to run on the first play, and the back ran into Billy, who stripped the ball, and then picked it up on first bounce. He ran downfield, but was not as fast as the offensive players from Ottawa. By the time he reached the 20 yard line, four of them were tugging at him, trying to pull him down. He refused to go down, and when he fell into the endzone there were seven Ottawa players hanging onto him. It was Billy’s first touchdown since high school.

Ottawa quickly learned that one man couldn’t keep Billy from their quarterback, so two, and finally three men were assigned to him. It gained the quarterback at most a second, as he would push one man into another, and then evade the third. He wound up with eleven sacks, blocked three passes, and pressured the quarterback into making bad plays many other times. When Ottawa tried to run, they had to run to the other side of the field, and with two or three men on Billy, that side was strong.

Billy stripped the ball three other times, although he didn’t recover the ball again. Twice though, other Western players did get the ball, resulting in one touchdown and one field goal. The anemic Western offense even got into the game, scoring one touchdown from good field position created by the defense.

The result was that Western won its second game, 24-19.

It became a tradition in St. Mary’s that the bar would be full on Saturday afternoons. Not much beer was sold to the reserve members, but the hotel made good money selling pizza and pop to the non-drinkers. There was a lot of cheering, as the new and improved Billy made Western into a powerhouse that didn’t lose another game all year, including the playoffs and the Vanier Cup, the national championship.

He then spent the Christmas holidays in the north, driving up with Wayne and Gordon and Donna Millet (and Rex, of course). Shelley and Billy were inseparable the entire time, and near the end of the holidays he proposed to her. In Canada even scholarship players struggle financially, and he couldn’t afford a diamond ring. Wayne spoke to George at the welding shop, and she made him a cheap, but pretty ring with a swirling wire that represented the river. She loved it, and vowed she would never replace it with a diamond, and held to her word, even after they were married and well off financially.

Billy finished the fall term with a 3.0 grade point average, well above the 1.5 needed to keep playing football, and even tutored some of his teammates. In spring, with no athletics to worry about, he scored a 4.0 and received the trophy as best academic athlete at the school, as well as best overall athlete.

He spent the summer at the mill, learning more and leading him to switch his major from sports management to the more challenging business major. He maintained his 4.0 GPA for the next two years, and graduated on the Dean’s List, the first football player to do so in 15 years.

As a grad, he went to a summer tryout camp for the Detroit Lions, and with his huge physique he made the team easily, even without a big-time US college football background.

He led Detroit into the SuperBowl for five years running, winning four, and the team was 4-0. He was the leading lineman in the league, and had won rookie of the year, and them a Pro Bowl spot each year. In his third year with the Lions he was named league MVP, an honor usually won by quarterbacks and recievers.

In the fifth game of his sixth year a new defensive line coach ordered Billy to knock the opposition quarterback out of the game. Billy already had 24 sacks in the initial games. Billy’s method so far was to wrap his arms around the quarterback, and push him back until the whistle went, which bothered the coach.

His new coach ordered him to throw the man to the ground forcefully on each sack, hoping to injure him so that a replacement would have to come in, and perhaps a third-stringer if the second man could also be hurt.

“I don’t play that way, coach,” Billy said. “I sack ‘em. No need to kill ‘em.”

The coach was livid. “You play for me, you play my way, you stupid Indian.”

Billy froze at the insult. He stood up and got into the face of the much smaller man, who fearfully backed off. Then Billy just turned around and walked off the field, even as the defense was needed on the field. He walked into the locker room, took off his uniform, showered, and got dressed. He then left the stadium where 65,000 rabid fans were wondering where he was as the Lions fell farther and farther behind.

By the time he was back to Windsor, Canada at the condo he and Shelley lived in, he was cool. And the Lions had lost 46-11. Billy was suspended. His agent was livid, first at Billy, then at the assistant coach. The coach was fired, but Billy still wouldn’t come back. He and Shelley had lived frugally as his salary, which increased to nearly a million a year, so they didn’t need to worry about money. Most of it was in the credit union up north. He announced his retirement.

For the next two weeks the sports media from Detroit were continually trying to get an explanation from Billy. He spoke to one reporter from the Windsor paper, but the Detroit papers and stations all wanted to get their own take on why he left. There were usually three to five media parked outside the condo every day of the next two weeks.

The Lions were on the road the following Sunday, and Shelley and Billy moved out that day, when the media horde was away. They drove to the reserve. The condo was sold and a moving van brought all their furniture along. The initial houses on the reserve were long since filled, but they bought a good lot on the St. Mary’s side of the highway and had Dale and his Ojibwe builders build a comparable home there.

Shelley went into the river with River as soon as she got there, and three weeks later she was pregnant. Luv was nearly eight, and adored her new cousin when he was born. By that time Nick and Marilyn had two other younger daughters and a son, and Shelley vowed she would catch up.

Billy took a job at the mill, and worked at every position through the plant as Wayne groomed him for a management position. Ken Turnbull retired soon after, and Wayne became plant manager, with Billy going into Wayne’s old job.

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Comments

Yaaay!!

This has always been one of my favorite series stories here, so I am so glad we got to see a little bit more of the crew!! Thank you so much!
Wow, that coach was a flipping idiot!! what the hell was he thinking?!?! sheesh way to insult someone =p

Does the happy dance, yaay more River! =]
Thank you!
Sara

OK!

Christina H's picture

Great to get a bit more of River as Sara said one of the best serials written you have really made my week
by posting this - thanks so very much.

Christina

Not a Good Idea

My5InchFMHeels's picture

Not a good idea to go at a guy standing on principles, especially if they're winning at the time. Slurs, unsportsmanlike tactics are also not good.

Glad we got to see where Shelley's life headed. Great epilogue!

What an awesome surprise.

WillowD's picture

I didn't expect to see any more chapters to this story. This is an awesome extra.

Thank You Dawn

This series has been an amazing adventure. I hope that your muse allows you to write many more, maybe even an occasional glimpse back into the lives of this tribal family. Thanks Again

fantastic epilogue

thank you for sharing it.

DogSig.png

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Thanks Dawn.

Please give us another, when things go that way.

T

Thank you, Dawn

Podracer's picture

just - thank you :)

"Reach for the sun."

Another great story

Samantha Heart's picture

Dawn this is still a great story so keep up the good work with ALL your stories.

Love Samantha Renée Heart.

Fell in love with this story

This story is just amazing, and I'm sad to be done reading it. Wish there was more!
Still i can't really blame you for ending it here, it could have gone on forever. Not that i would mind!

Only thing i really miss is seeing is River's and Wayne's romance grow as they grow older. Have a small hope you will one day write that chapter.

But even if that never happens, this is one powerful and wonderful story that I'm sure i will read again one day.
Loved it!

paintversion.jpg

WOW! What a story!

Bobbie Sue's picture

I understand that this was written a while ago, but I just found and "binge read" it. I guess that is a term equivalent to "I couldn't put it down." and if so, it, too, is correct. You have done an outstanding job in both writing and story telling. I am a hopeless romantic, and this fit right in. Thank you for taking the amazing amount of time that I am sure this took. I look forward to seeing more of your work.