We’ve been plunged into another world, and no one even asked us whether we wanted this. The government claims it’s doing all this for our own good, to improve our future, to turn us into real Canadians, but we feel as if we’ve been ripped out by the roots, just like our big jackpine.

Manie is sad, but she waits patiently. In the past such patience has betrayed our people, but this time we will use it to our advantage. Manie will wait for calm to return before she goes on the attack.

7

WE’RE ALL GATHERED in the chapel again, but this time there’s no priest. The tension is thick. You can really see it in people’s eyes. The contractor has done his job in record time. Twenty new houses have popped up like mushrooms. This afternoon is the draw. Who will get one?

The representative from the ministry has put the names of all the heads of the families in a hat. He explains that he will pull out twenty names without looking at them, to show that the choice has been made “democratically and without favoritism.” He says not everyone will get a house this year, and those who do might be a little cramped at first. But in a few years when the program is complete, all fifty families will be properly housed. He says that for people who have never had proper housing, owning a house, even a very small one, is a real blessing.

Of course there is a special guest. We’re used to them by now. There’s always someone — smiling, happy, well dressed, and they drive new cars. They never stay long because they’re always in a hurry. Manie calls them gusts of wind, because when they come, everything shifts around in a panic, like a sudden wind that ruffles the treetops for no apparent reason. Then, when they leave, calm returns.

The visitor today explains that the houses that have been built for us are expensive, very expensive. He says a number and then multiplies it by twenty. He adds that we should consider ourselves lucky because our good government has invested a fortune to provide the Indians with suitable housing. He finishes by adding that despite the exorbitant cost that the houses represent, everyone is happy and he is pleased to be with us here this afternoon.

We all applaud.

The draw can now begin. That’s why we’re all here. We hear the big flies beating their wings and banging against the windows.

The official from the ministry closes his eyes. He screws up his face as if he’s making a huge effort to mix up the slips in the hat. Then he takes out a piece of paper and holds it up. He hands it out to the invited guest who reads it and then calls out, “House number one goes to the Commanda family!”