by Nancy Branch
In the rugged Nepisiguit River region of northern New Brunswick, two hunters face off. One is local sports lodge employee Danny Knockwood, a Mi’gmaw guide with a withered hand. The other is Mui’n, a one-eared black bear battling his inexorable hunger. When Danny is charged by the lodge owner to hunt down the bear that is frightening guests at the salmon pools, his personal values come into sharp conflict with his commitment to the task. The resulting confrontation tests both his physical strength and his beliefs, as Danny begins to recognize a kindred spirit within the fiercely determined bear.
IN HIS WINTER DEN below the upturned roots of a white pine, lying on a bed of balsam fir and scraped-up bits of forest duff, Mui’n awoke. The bear thrust his snout towards the narrow shaft of light from his breathing hole, ringed with ice formed by the heat of his breath. Hooking the curved claws of one large forepaw around the edge of the air vent, he pushed. A second taloned paw followed and pushed with greater force until hardened layers of snow exploded into the air. Mui’n’s front legs appeared and then his head, low to the ground, his tan-coloured nose twitching, his pink tongue tasting the air, his eyes, black and inscrutable, squinting against the insult of sunlight. Snow spilled from above one ear, the other having been torn away long ago in an escape from a Two-paw trap. The bear paced in front of his winter home, sleep-dazed, and then moved away from the stink of the den into the hungry spring.
ROLLING ONTO HIS SIDE in his bunk, Danny Knockwood pulled the grey wool blanket over his head against the sunlight pouring in through the cabin windows. Tegig, he thought, shivering. Spring sun had little warmth. Rooting deeper into a heated pocket of his bedding, Danny dozed but suddenly sat upright in the frosted morning.
“Moo elowtinook. Useless thing,” he muttered as he rubbed the numbness out of the withered hand that always gave him trouble when he overslept. In truth, the twisted appendage was not as debilitating as it appeared. Danny had learned to compensate for what nature had failed to give him. Sometimes he had to tie his left hand to the stock of his rifle when he was tracking, or prop the barrel of the gun across his elbow before taking a shot, but it never kept him from bagging game. And in his business, that was all that mattered.
“Christ, he’s a gimp,” an American sportsman had said the first day Danny had shown up for work as a guide for the Williamson Lumber Company Sports Lodge. “What kinda operation is this, anyways? Don’t want some fuggin’ gimp guidin’ us.”
But wobégwei had said little against him on his second day. The second day, Danny had appeared for work wearing a fierce, black-eyed scowl, his long hair flowing loose from under a bandana, and his shoulder-slung rifle tied with a raven feather painted to resemble an eagle’s. That day their tongues hadn’t wagged quite so much. And they’d said even less after Danny swiftly brought down the twelve-point buck one of the loudmouths had wounded with a piss-poor shot.
about the author
Maritime-born NANCY BRANCH holds an M.Ed. from the University of New Brunswick, Fredericton. She now lives with her husband and son in Sherbrooke, Quebec, where she teaches Business English and English as a Second Language at Bishop’s University. One of her short stories has recently been published in The Mitre, Canada’s oldest literary journal. She is currently at work on a book of interconnected fiction stories entitled Journey Home, set on the Bay of Chaleur coast in northern New Brunswick.
from the library
A recruiter for a Division I college basketball team travels to a town in hopes of finally convincing the year's prize high school prospect to play for his team. Over several days, he reflects on his love of the sport, his respect for the kids, and a job that forces him to sweep sentiment aside in order to get results.
“Andrew Forbes' The Gamechanger is a powerful work from a point-of-view — that of the scout, the talent evaluator — which is not often seen or done convincingly, as it is here. A story about fathers and sons, about fate, and about the implicit savageries that lurk at the heart of the sports we love and the teams we cheer for. This is wonderful, raw writing.”
— Craig Davidson, author of Rust and Bone and Cataract City
“A fascinating look at the relationships a recruiter has to manage, from the sacrifices of being away from their family, to dealing with rival recruiters, prospects and their friends and family ... a very nuanced and layered approach that goes beyond just a man with a job to do at a gym.”
— Alex Wong, stevenlebron.com
The anarchic relationships holding together a group of teen girls - whose lines between love and hate, jealousy and loyalty, are not so much drawn as they are furiously scribbled - are put to the test at an unforgettable birthday party. This story captures all the angst and uncertainty of adolescence, with prose as sharp and jarring as a smashed kaleidoscope.
“Rarely an author comes along whose work hits you with the impact of a slap. I have had this experience with the work of Jayne Anne Phillips, with Lorrie Moore and Mary Gaitskill; most recently I have felt this on discovering the writing of Kirsty Logan. Her work is elegant, minimal, and innovative, but underlying it all is a great passion. If the world is a place where talent is recognised—in time, I believe, we may come to say her name alongside the aforementioned.”
— Ewan Morrison, author of Swung
Marcel, a sensitive sniper, knew his life was missing something. But he didn't know what until he set his crosshairs on it: Violet Caine. A ginger-headed lover of Thai food, wanted dead simply because her brother messed with the wrong bike gang. It's a story of redemption coming too late, and the ways happenstance can turn a warm man cold. Then warm again. Whether fate wrote his troubled life, or he wrote it himself, he wants Violet Caine to be the end of it - be it figuratively or literally.
When Blanche first began singing, she was humble, eager, willing to work, willing to learn. Now she is headstrong, condescending, unprofessional, and just a tiny bit full of herself. She is also the closest to genius that Antoinette, her accompanist, may ever have a chance to work with.
Toronto in the twenty-first century: At night, a beacon on a lonely ancient lake, a drainage pond from the last ice age. In the daytime, a bulwark of glass, glinting in the radiant sun. Joe, Mary, and her cat, Sam, sit in a lakeside condo, trapped by a crazed, mysterious sniper. What has become of their lives? What has become of their city? What has become of their century? As the situation begins to unravel, Mary finds herself wondering, “What would Margaret Atwood do?”
Portraits of people marooned within themselves, trapped by their past experiences, by uncertainty and anxiety — individuals for whom each new situation is a grueling journey towards the present, a place where action and choice are possible. In Second World, Matt Cahill illustrates, with honesty and empathy, how the most important breakthroughs are not the life-altering revelations, but rather the minor miracles that get us through each day.
Decades ago, when bands like the Everly Brothers rode the airwaves and vacancy signs shone like beacons in the night, a young man gets his first taste of love, loss, and the ethereal satisfaction that comes with knowing that the world is turning and life is being lived.