“Hey, lovebirds! I want to talk to you!”

We stop. He backs up and sticks his head out the window.

I don’t like police cars. They remind me of Mont-Laurier. I see the grill that separates the back of the car from the front. The passengers are kept in the back like wild animals in a cage.

I clench my fists. My anger is smoldering like a hot log ready to burst into flames at the slightest gust of air. I hate these men, but I can’t let them see it.

I wait. Macdonald looks Pinamen up and down with a nasty smile.

“Yeah, you don’t waste any time, do you, young man. Spending the night under the stars. I know what you’ve been up to…”

I say nothing.

“What are you hiding in your bag there?”

Mush barks. I take him out and press him to my shoulder.

“A dog! You’ll have to get a licence for him. All dogs have to have a tag with a registration number. That’s the law. Didn’t you know? No? So now I’m telling you, Larivière. No tag, and we’ll destroy the dog on sight.”

I’ve heard enough.

“Of course! I understand perfectly. Every dog needs a tag the way every Indian needs a band number.”

Macdonald gives me a crooked smile. He takes a drag on his cigarette and blows out a puff of smoke.

“I can see the wheels turning in that little head of yours, Larivière.”

I say nothing.

“And what are your plans now, apart from whispering sweet nothings to your girlfriend?”

He’s no longer smiling. His jaw is hard and he points his finger at me, his voice clipped, like he’s giving orders in the army.

“Larivière, I’m watching you. The break-in at the band office has your handwriting on it. You’re stirring up the Indians against the whites. The barrier to stop the loggers, that was all your idea. But you’re not out of the woods yet! First chance I get, I’m clapping cuffs on you, I swear it. Goodbye, Larivière!”

I want to spit in his face and tell him that I am a free man, I have nothing to apologize for. But I hold my tongue. Every muscle in my body is in a knot, and my ears are buzzing. I know he’s baiting me.

Pinamen takes my arm and tugs it gently. I put Mush slowly back in the bag.

Suddenly I stand at attention. I stare straight ahead and salute him.

“Yes, my captain! Whatever you say!”

I click my heels and turn my back, but not before I see him blanch.

In a rage, he roars like a bear in a cage, flings opens the door and spits out his cigarette, ready to charge.

Pinamen stands between us. We are in the heart of the reserve. Hundreds of invisible eyes are glued to us, I can feel them.

At that moment, the little high-pitched bell on the chapel begins to ring. We both freeze at the shrill sound.