The Weight of Snow. Christian Guay-PoliquinЧитать онлайн книгу.
I’ll look after everything. It will be all right. Don’t worry, I’ll pretend. There are only so many ways of surviving.
II. MAZE
Either we wait until the days and nights defeat us. Or we fashion wings for ourselves and escape through the air. We just need to stick some feathers on our arms with wax. Take flight, get air beneath our wings. Afterward, nothing will hold us back. But before we depart, listen to me carefully. If you fly too low, the humidity will weigh down your plumage and you’ll crash to the ground. If you fly too high, the sun’s heat will melt your wings and you’ll plummet into nothingness.
SIXTY-TWO
Yesterday, the wind turned calm and fat heavy flakes began to fall. The snow continues to fall in tight ranks, in parallel formation. We can hardly make out the snow gauge. The trail that Matthias left over the past days has been completely swallowed up. A cottony silence has settled over everything. All I hear are the flames licking the sides of the woodstove and Matthias rolling out pie dough on the counter.
There is a knock on the door.
Matthias turns around, shakes the flour off his clothes, and rushes to open the door. A man walks into the room, covered with melting snow. He is carrying a bag on his back, and he sets it down and goes to sit on the stool by the entrance. He pulls off his coat and catches his breath. We quickly recognize the man, his face, his beard, his high forehead. It’s Joseph.
Matthias is happy to see him, and it shows. He offers to make him coffee, then tells him to get warm by the stove. Joseph thanks him, rolls up the sleeves of his woollen sweater, and takes out his tobacco. Joseph lights his cigarette, sending thick scrolls of smoke into the air. He gives us both a long look. Matthias puts water on to boil and casts an eye at the bag our visitor has brought, while I sit up as straight as I can in my bed.
And so, he asks, trying to hide a look of disapproval, how are things?
At his feet, the snow is melting, turning to water, and forming a pool. It is as if he were sitting on a rock, looking off into the distance, toward our desert island.
SIXTY-THREE
In the village, Joseph begins, some people claim it’s going to snow for the next few days. I don’t know how they can read the clouds, but that’s what they’re saying. And they’re saying it’s going to be a long winter. But you don’t need a crystal ball to come to that conclusion. In any case, this is a lot of snow for this time of year. Even with my snowshoes, it’s not easy to get up here. I think your house is moving a little further from the village every day.
When he speaks, Joseph waves his arms in the air and the ash falls off his cigarette, though he doesn’t notice.
This week, a group of hunters came out of the woods. Everyone had given up hope of seeing them again. The rest of them had returned from their camps a long time ago. They wanted to avoid needless manoeuvres, so they waited until the ice on the lakes was thick enough to bear their weight. With all the moose carcasses they were bringing back, I can understand. In the village, everyone’s busy salting the meat and putting it up. There’s no prettier sight.
He stubbed out his cigarette and leaned over me.
But we still have no news of your family. In the village, some people are saying that they had trouble in the woods and got trapped in the snow. Who knows? People tell all kinds of stories. Maybe they decided to spend the winter in the woods, far from the blackout and everyone else. I’m not worried about them, they’ve seen it all before.
As Matthias serves us coffee, I picture my uncles and their hunting camp. It stands on the bank of a river, between two chains of mountains. At that spot, I remember, the water is fast and the riverbed is deep and green. To get across you need a canoe. On the other side, the cedars are enormous and moss carpets the ground. The camp is back from the river. You follow a path made of roots to reach it. When you spot the chimney through the trees, you’re there. It’s not very big, but there’s room for everyone. They could very well spend the winter there.
You know, Joseph continues, we’ve had a few meetings in the village. Even with the blackout, Jude wanted to go on being mayor. At first we weren’t too sure, but José threw his support behind him and everyone got used to the idea. After all, we’re not so bad off, and we owe that to Jude. He does the coordination work, takes good care of our precious supply of gas, and distributes the provisions that were stored in the grocery. Since the blackout hit, half the population has
deserted the village. People went to other villages, or the city, or maybe into the woods, who can say? Jude is right. No sense leaving. Or worrying more than we need to. We have to stick together and make it through the winter. It’s strange, but if you ask me, the snow has made people calmer. Almost everyone was there when it was time to bring in the stove wood. I’ll be bringing you some soon.
A prisoner of my bed, I curse my fate. I would have loved to contribute and fell a few tall trees. Instead, I twist and turn in bed, my head in a vise and my legs in splints.
Meanwhile, Joseph adds, we keep watch over the entrance to the village, but with this buildup of snow, I’d be surprised if we had any visitors. I’m happy not to have to do surveillance and carry my rifle wherever I go anymore. The thing is heavy for nothing. If there’s a problem, the church bells will sound the alarm. That church has to be good for something. Jude asked us to go through the abandoned houses and gather up the supplies that people left behind. In one cellar, we found someone’s garden harvest – potatoes, carrots, and turnips.
With those words, Joseph picks up the bag and sets it on the table. Matthias reaches for it immediately, delighted by the abundant manna.
And someone managed to dig up an old short-wave radio kit and solar panels, Joseph says.
Were you able to communicate with other villages? Matthias questions him.
No. We tried, but no one really knows how to use that thing. On the other hand, with the solar panels we can recharge our batteries without starting up the generators. And I found a hand-powered water pump. We drove a pipe into the snow and we can finally draw water directly from the river. We also came across some propane tanks, fondue pots, tools, and blankets. Some people use the search to take all the money they can find, as if the return of the electricity would usher in their hour of glory. There were a few skirmishes, but no one wanted to get involved.
Did you bring some milk? Matthias interrupts him.
No, that will be next time. There are only twelve cows left in the stable. All the rest turned into meat. The herd would not have made it through the winter with the hay we have. To go looking for milk is complicated, so we keep it for the children. But everyone who tasted your cheese really liked it. Some of them are ready to barter to get more.
Matthias raises his eyes and gives Joseph a questioning look.
I’m telling you, your cheese really is good. You should go see Jacques. He lives in the old hunting and fishing store. He’s an odd duck, but his offers are always the best. Everyone ends up doing business with him.
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